Frozen Memories
by Evvyxox
Summary: Max, the new girl, in a new school. Pretty cliche, right? Yep. Max- the un-dateable one, the badass girl. Pretty cliche, right? Yep. Max, the one who fell into Fang's life, tangled herself into his memories. Pretty cliche, right? Nope. She falls deeper into the endless abyss of his past. Will she bring light, or will she turn cold, forever frozen, in his Frozen Memories?
1. New Beginnings

**Author Note: I'm Solstice, BTW. If you're not bothered to check out our profile, I'll jut sum it up for you... Evvyxox is made up of 4 people! Our AMAZING editor, Minni, who makes sure we don't post _total _crap, and Sky, Summer, and Solstice (me) who write. I'm Solstice writing this BTW...so...enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride! All due credit to James Patterson**

I sigh, tugging my reluctant suitcase step by step up the meandering staircase. It makes a harsh _thud_ as it hits the next step. I curse silently. _Way to blend in Max. _It's 4am, and I'm trying, key word being _trying,_ to get to my _new_ dorm in my _new_ school. I sigh softly again, before accidently tugging the suitcase up two steps, onto my awaiting foot. I yelp, letting go of the suitcase, letting it tumble back down the mile of stairs I've just covered. Scrambling back down the stairs, chasing my runaway luggage, I finally manage to stop it. I stand still, teetering on the edge of a stair, trying to regain my breath. Right at that moment, the whole thing opens up letting the entire contents tumble out all the way down the staircase in all of its glory. I bite my fist to stop from screaming, both at my throbbing foot and the current gallery being made out of my clothes. Dejectedly, I trudge down the stairs, picking up everything as I walk back up, stuffing it into my utterly useless suitcase, and renewing my uphill struggle. _This day just gets better and better. _

It's 5am by the time I get to my dorm, and 7 by the time everything's been put away. I tug a comb through my dirty blonde waves, trying to regain some order, somewhere. I have shadows under my big, dark brown eyes. _Great, what a way to make an impression on your first day_. Tiredly, I rub them, only succeeding in making them look droopy. I haven't been able to sleep for a few weeks now. I bleakly wonder how mum is. She was almost in tears when I left, but she needed the space-I could tell. After dad left, she left the house more and more, sometimes leaving for days. She couldn't stand to look at me. I looked too much like him. And if there's one person I would suffer for, it's my mum. So I decided to apply for boarding school, and got in on scholarship. And that's where I am now. With a headache, lack of sleep, starving to death, and with a throbbing foot. I groan, rolling over in bed. It's a Sunday, so no one is in school, except for the first years, meaning my year. The others have been here for a week though, coming early to meet up with others and unpack. School only officially starts tomorrow. There are two more rooms in my dorm. One has someone's things already unpacked, whereas the other has men constantly coming in and out, carrying boxes of possessions. I finally get up, from lolling on the bed, going to find some food, when I'm rugby tackled to the floor. I look up from wheezing on the floor to see a girl grinning down at me. Her mocha skin contrasts starkly against the blinding white of her teeth. Her straightened dark brown hair is frizzing slightly at the tips, bouncing as she jiggles with excitement, her whole body seems to exhume excitement.

"Hi! I'm Monique! But everyone calls me Nudge, so you can too! I like Monique, it's a nice name, but maybe I would like something a bit fancier, like Cordelia, I mean it sounds so pretty! Oh, what's your name? I bet it's something all tomboyish like Alex. Is your full name Alexandra? I mean, that's a nice name as well, but Alexis sounds much nicer. I used to know a girl called Alexis, but she was a total meanie, I mean, I _hated _her. Isn't it weird how horrible people get the nicest names? Oh, not that I'm horrible, or that I don't have a nice name, I hope _you're_ not horrible. I would hate to have a horrible roommate!" she squeals. She said this all in _one_ breath. Jesus this girl can talk. She opens her mouth to say something again when I put my hand firmly over her mouth.

"Max. Max Ride. Short for Maximum. When I take my hand off your mouth, you are not going to talk. Ok?" I say slowly. She nods vigorously. I take my hand off of her mouth.

"I'm just moving in, see, I have that room," she says pointing at the room with the men going in.

"Who lives in the other room?" I ask, almost scared to ask her something.

"I don't know, the door says 'Angel'. She'll probably be back soon," she says.

"Right, now where can I get food in this hell hole?"

**Author Note: Hey! I'm completely new to fanfiction, and_ just_ managed to figure out how to upload a damn story! But I figure it out, so yay!:D**

**Please, review...that poor lonely little review button, right there, why don't you give it a little pat? **


	2. This day just gets better and better

**Author Note: Hi Guys! Sorry I've taken such a long time to update...been busy making it PERFECT. Just a note. The weird mark you may see is called an interrobang. It's a mix of an exclamation mark and a question mark. I think it's really cool! (so does Minni-she found it first). Also look up 'Sarc Mark'. It's AMAZING! It's what you use in sarcasm. I didn't bother to insert any, but I think it's kinda obvious where they're meant to be...Please keep the reviews flowing in, keep reading, and I hope you enjoy!**

Max POV

I doodle absently on the edge of my paper. The teacher drones on about straight line graphs in her usual monotone. I rub ferociously at my page, to eradicate the doodles. I tear out the page in frustration. Great. What a lovely start to my book. A beautifully smudged, ripped, crumpled, and doodled-on sheet of graph paper. _Wow, Max. This deserves a place in the Tate Modern. _Hm…not a bad idea. _Fate of a bored child in Maths._ I label it. I hear someone snigger next to me, and turn to glare at my 'seatmate'. Fang looks down at me smirking. I cover up my page, scowling, sneaking a peek at his impeccably neat writing and numbers. _Conceited bastard._ I scrawl 'Property of the Tate Modern' in thick neon yellow highlighter across the page.

"What have you got against the Tate?" Fang whispers, amusement dancing in is dark eyes. I roll my eyes, silently counting down the seconds. 3672 seconds later, the bell rings. I leap out of my seat, hurtling down through the doorway like a wrecking ball. I collide heavily with someone, falling backwards onto the parquet floor. _Great. This day just gets better and better. _

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Ugh! Watch where you're going bitch," I hear a girl squeal. _A cat fight. This is just what I need, isn't it? This really can't get worse._ And I stand corrected, because that's when I realise that I _didn't_ hit some_one_. I just _had_ to collide with a slut and a player in full blow PDA , didn't I?

The clock's hands move staccato around the clock, at an unbearably slow pace. I stifle a groan, resting my head on my crossed arms across the desk.

"Miss Ride you may not sleep," the supervising teacher says in monotone not glancing up from his 'engrossing' magazine. I lift my head, scowling.

"Don't look at me like that," The teacher says still looking down. Wow. _Someone _needs a _life._

"I'm-" I'm interrupted by the door swinging open with a crash. Mr Monotone (I think that suits him) flinches slightly.

"Hey hey hey! Iglesias is HERE! Let's get this party started!" a boy dashes across the room, kicking over chairs and hurdling over the tables. _Wow._ He collapses heavily into the chair next to me, his feet up on the table much like mine. He turns to grin at me.

"May I remind you two that you're in detention," Mr Monotone says in- you guessed it, monotone.

"Iggy Walker," he says cheerfully. "Also known as Iglesias, The Ig, Igster, Ignacious, Iggynore Me Please, the Iggynator, Iguana, I Dog, Mr Walker, Mr EpIggosity-"

"Wow, is Nudge your sister or something? You seem to both run on the same fuel. I'm Max Ride, short for Maximum," I say slightly winded.

"Hi Maxie!" he says cheerfully. He reaches over to hug me, instead tipping over his chair. He falls on the floor, his chair soon following.

"Aaaarrrrrgghhhhhhh! Noooooooooooooooo! My chair is molesting me! Who knew great hotitude comes at a price! MAXIE, HELPPPPP!" He screams, thrashing wildly with the chair on top of him. I'm pretty much crying with laughter, when Mr Monotone finally looks up at us, glaring.

I quieten down slightly, tears still streaming. Iggy not noticing continues wrestling with his chair.

"Mr Epiggosity. You may not have heard of a chair. You see-you _sit _on it," Mr Monotone drawls rolling his eyes, looking back at his magazine. Iggy freezes on the floor, looking at me. Our eyes widen, and then suddenly we both burst out laughing.

"Teachers have heard of _humour_! Rejoice in the streets!" Iggy says, righting his chair. He shakes out his strawberry blond hair.

"So, I'm guessing you're a freshman?" he asks.

"Yep. Room 13, Night Dorm, South Tower. You?" I ask. The School (as it's called) is divided into four towers surrounding the main block-which is where classes are. The four towers are North, East, South and West. Within each of the towers, there are two sections. The bottom half of dorms being the Day Dorms and the top half being the Night. They don't have much significance other than it being easier to navigate around. And trust me. I need all the help I can get.

"I'm fresh too! Um….wait. I _always_ forget this." he says, scrambling for a bit of paper.

"Room 25- Day Dorm, East tower" he says.

"But hey, if I forget, can I come stay at yours?" he winks. I scoff.

"Yeah, because I'm _sure _you'll remember _that_," I say. Iggy waggles his eyebrows perversely.

"Did you know anyone here before you came?" I ask. I didn't know anyone, having moved all the way from NYC to sunny Cali.

"My brother's in Night Dorm in North, and my roomie from Middle is in Day, West. My roomie and I are moving to my brother's dorm soon. For today I'm stuck with Barfing Bill and Hypochondriac Harvey," he says gloomily.

"Why are you moving-other than the obvious reasons?" I ask. Iggy doesn't seem to be the type to get hyped up over…unpleasantness…

"I don't _care _about the _barfing_. I _care _about the fact that they won't let me do my pyro!" he says, waving his hands about like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Pyro?" I question.

"You know…bombs. I _love _them. Bomb making is my _life_," he declares. That's when a thought ccurs to me.

"You make bombs?"

Iggy nods.

"These bombs….explode?"

"As bombs do…" he nods.

"You use them in…..pranks?"

Iggy nods slowly. I nod, satisfied.

"Ok then. Better go shopping for Kevlar" I say. Iggy grins at me. Yep. _Definitely_ need that Kevlar. We spend half of the remaining hour tapping out out of beat rhythms on the desks until Mr Milbern glares at us. We're slouching in our chairs, trying to keep from falling asleep. I have an _extremely _bad feeling that the second my eyes close, I'll have a permanent marker moustache. I sigh heavily. Iggy slouches back in his chair, pretending to look like a jailbird. He looks at me with heavy lidded pale blue eyes, running a hand over imaginary stubble.

"So what oo in 'ere for?" he asks, chewing his words. I imitate him.

"Oh, you know. This an' that." I say nonchalantly with a fake Texas accent.

"Nah, come on. You wouldn't get _Mr Milbern _just for 'this an' that'!" Iggy says-now back to normal.

"Good to know I'm loved," Mr Monotone says from the front.

"It's really not-" I stop at Iggy's eager face. I cover my eyes with a hand.

"I ran into a slut in full make out session. Needless to say she was…disappointed and…things got….physical…" I say, looking at the ceiling.

"And _not _in the way _you're _thinking," I say hurriedly.

**********************************_Flashback_*****************************

I'm immediately slapped sharply across the face, and I stumble back, hitting the wall. _Great. What a beautiful bruise on your cheek bone Max. It compliments that lovely cut you have on your temple. Oh and look! That tear on the knee of your black skinny jeans is __**very **__chic. _

"Stupid girl! I mean- can't I get some peace with my _boyfriend _in this place? Oh, how would _you _know. You've probably _never _had a boyfriend before. What would _you _know about the _value _of _private _time with a lover?" she rants, shaking out her pin straight sheet of fire engine red hair, green eyes flashing. I ignore her, brushing the cut gingerly, wincing. _God those nails kill._ She could probably take an eye out with her hot pink talons.

"You must be blind if you call _this _private. You were sucking face in the middle of the hallway! Sorry, but I'd like to keep my eyesight till I'm at least 50, thanks," I say furiously, picking up my bag. A crowd of curious students have formed around us now. The teachers watch warily, used to the foul mouthed language rife in the college.

"Leave it Lis," her player boy toy says red faced, looking at anywhere but her.

"What‽ No! You're my boyfriend! SUPPORT ME!" she screeches at him. Oh, how _very _attractive.

"Boyfriend number...?" I sing softly. I look around, whistling nonchalantly as Lissa turns an _incredibly _attractive shade of puce.

"Boy-friendless bull shitting bat," she spits.

"Twinkle twinkle stupid whore close your legs you're not a door," I say bitterly, assessing the damage on my jeans. There's a round of collective gasps, as she strides towards me, slapping me _again. What's with the bitch slaps‽_

"Whores are so stupid. They get done but they just keep coming back. You're in school, slut. _Learn," _I punch her hard.

"Learn,"

****************************_End of Flash back_*********************************

I wince at his next words.

"YOU PUNCHED LISSA ‽" he screams, almost falling off his chair _again_. Wow, word gets around fast.

"Dude, you're sick!" he screams, pounding my shoulder. I look at him to see a wide, awestruck grin across his face. Wrong 'sick' Max. _Wrong 'sick'._

"Dude you're me hero!" he screams again. I laugh.

"That was a _killer_ right hook! Jesus! Have you learnt Karate or something‽ I mean, the blood just kept flowing for _hours_ after. _Hours_!"

"Uh- that was more instinct than Karate. Never learnt self defence. What happened after I left?" I ask.

********************************_Flash back***********************************_

I stormed off down the hallway clutching my bag. I get some startled looks from students as they catch sight of my bloody knuckles. I rinse them off in the nearest water fountain.

"She-she attacked me! I was just here with my boyfriend when she came up to me- obviously jealous- and punched me! My nose! AAAAAARGGGGHHHHH! I want my boyfriend! Where is he‽ Has _she_ hurt him‽ The maniac! I want HEWY!" she wails in the distance. I wrinkle my nose. _Hewy?_ Ew. 'Hewy' left soon after I punched her. Her charming knight in shining armour dashes to the rescue. Really, it was worth it. The sound of a broken-nose slut screaming is probably my favourite sound in the world, despite how sadistic that sounds. Of course- only after the sound of the timer once the choco chip cookies are done in the oven..._Snap out of it Max_.

That's when the PA blares across the deserted hallways.

"_Miss Maximum Ride to the Principle's office, Maximum Ride, Principle's office, now, please, thank you,"_ I groan.

_This day just gets better and better._

*************************************_End of Flash Back_*****************************************

"Meh, not much. Lissa was a mess... I saw her 'boyfriend' with Amy Stewart. The usual," he shrugs.

"So why are _you _in detention anyway?" I ask, curious.

"First day bomb prank?" he says sheepishly.

"Ig-" I'm interrupted as the door slams open. I turn in my seat to look at who the late comer is.

"Sorry I'm late. Held up by-"

"_YOU_‽" I gape in horror. _This day just gets better and better._


	3. A perveted pyro, an enemy and a slut

**AN: Hey guys! So I'm really happy to hear the reviews! Just wanted to say thanks...cause it means a lot to me! The second I see positive reviews I feel like writing again! Thanks a lot! I just wanted to say that I'm kinda starting the story of as a comedy, and a bit cliche, but I'll move on to make it serious soon...not depressing or anything, just a proper plot...**

**Just so you know, the whole 'embarassing PE incident'? yeah, that happened with me. Me being Max. Minni and Summer were there...God I could have died that day...**

**Disclaimer: Maximum Ride is all James Patterson's! I just own Frozen Memories...**

**(AND FANGLES' HEART! MUAHAHAHAHAAH!) not...yet...**

******anywho, on with the story!**

Cliché. That's probably the best word to describe my life. Everything seems typical, purely, practically platitude. Like my life is a play, a novella, written with that sharp, vicious, so very _cruel _nib.

In the doorway stands _Fang_, framed in all of his arrogant glory. The second he sees me, his eyes widen infinitesimally, as he leans against the doorframe, smirking. _FML._

"Yo bro!" I hear Iggy say cheerfully. I have an immediate mind-blank.

I look at Iggy.

I look at Fang.

Look at Iggy.

Fang.

Iggy.

Fang.

Iggy.

Fang.

Iggy.

Fang.

Iggy.

Fang.

"Careful Miss Ride you'll sprain your neck," I hear Mr Milbern.

Iggy.

Fang.

_Iggy._

_FANG._

"You're BROTHERS‽" I gasp, the fact finally registering.

"Took you long enough," Fang smirks. I barely hear him, eyes wide.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me‽" I practically shout at Iggy. He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, hello Unknown Stranger, I am Monsieur FantastIg, and I have an arrogant pig head for a brother who you may have met before. That's a perfectly normal introduction isn't it -" he falters at my death glare. He flinches, shrinking in his chair.

"And hurdling over desks like an orangutan is _so _much more normal, isn't it?" I hear the monotone from the front.

"_This_ is the brother in North you're rooming with. This-" I stop, gesturing violently at Mr Smirk-a-lot unable to express myself drastically enough. Fang watches me, eyes sparkling with amusement. He walks over to the desk on my other side (The right side being occupied by Iggy) .

"You're _late _Mr Walker," Mr Milbern drones robotically.

"As _usual_," Fang monotones, mimicking the teacher.

"Thank goodness for that. But please do try not to make such a grand entrance. Miss Ride seems to be having an aneurism," Mr Milbern says.

"Oh it's just my overwhelming presence. She can't help it," Fang says, leaning towards me.

"More like overwhelming _stink_," I say, wrinkling my nose, gagging silently onto Iggy's lap. The asshole doesn't smell. And he _knows _it. He rolls his eyes, leaning back. _Bastard_.

"What ya here for Fangster?" Iggy asks, rocking back on his chair.

"Late to class again," he says casually.

"Good to see detention has made such an impression on you," Mr Milbern drawls.

"And I suppose you're the blonde haired bimbo that punched Lissa," Fang says not bothering to look at me. _Blonde haired bimbo? Oh, __**that's**__ rich._

"Bimbo?" I ask furiously, seeing red.

"Lissa's words, not mine," Fang says, exasperatingly emotionless.

"_She's_ the one who was sucking boyfriend number _x_'s face off in the middle of the hallway!" I shout. I groan in despair resting my head on my arms.

"Chill Maxie you still have me" Fang says. I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Shut up Fangles," I say, not lifting my head. I feel Iggy pat my head comfortingly.

"I almost fall down the stairs on my first day, great. I get detention on my first day, great. I get called a _bimbo_ on my _first_ _day_, great. I meet a pervert, an ass hole, and a slut on my _first freaking day_. Can this get any better?" I continue to moan helplessly into my arms. Then I hear a soft knock on the door. I look up as the door opens _again_. An incredibly bad sense of déjà vu washes over me. I start to pray, closing my eyes.

"Oh God, _please_ no. If anyone up there has any sympathy for me please-"

"YOU‽" A shrill voice screeches. _Dear lord._ Lissa strides into the room. She takes one look at me, starts trembling, and runs to Fang's other side, clutching his arm. _That's right. Be scared. VERY scared._

"FANGY! What's that _monster _doing _here_?" she wails, clutching Fang's arm like a life support, digging in her talons. _Ouch._ Fang winces, giving me a desperate look. I click my tongue. _Ha_.

"I'm in detention sweetheart. The teachers decided that I did such a great job with your face that I deserved not to have to see your face any longer," I say rolling my eyes.

"BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Iggy screams dramatically.

"Why do _you_ get to be let off‽" he continues, pouting. I bite back a laugh as Lissa frowns, confused.

"What?" she asks.

"Teachers are so unfair!" she screeches like a banshee. _God, can this girl get any stupider?_

"Why are you here anyway Lissa?" I ask, rubbing my temples. I can feel a headache coming on. She sniffs. I take pleasure in seeing the plaster on her swelling nose.

"The nurse isn't in so I have nowhere to go. My nose might start to bleed," she says, looking at Fang dreamily.

"Sit down Miss Snyed. You're giving us all a headache," Mr Milbern says tiredly. Lissa 'hmphs', sitting down next to Fang. Iggy scrawls down notes on a piece of paper. It's suspiciously titled 'New Bomb P'. _Yep, __**definitely**__ need to go get some Kevlar_. Fang stares blankly into space like the emotionless wall he is, as Lissa tugs at his sleeve. _What on earth is that girl __**doing**__?_ She bends over the table, pushing forward her disgustingly fake chest, sliding her fingers along Fang's arm. He shudders every few seconds. It's 30 degrees out, and he's looking pointedly away from her. You do the math. I rest my head on my arms, lifting it every few seconds to show Mr Milbern that I'm _not_ sleeping. After the rest of the hour has slowly drained away, Mr Milbern looks up from his magazine, sighing, pushing his bottle cap glasses further up his snub nose.

"You are all free to go. Miss Ride, do us a favour and disfigure Miss Snyed outside of school, so that I won't have to put up with her in my spare time. Mr Walker, if you're going to bomb someone, please blow me up, so that I won't have to put up with you in detention. Mr Walker, if I tell you to be early, will you listen?" he asks.

"Nope," Fang says confidently.

"As expected," the teacher sighs. "Miss Snyed, just do us a favour and wear clothes. No, do better than that. Shut up," he says. I'm out of the door before he can say another word.

_Beep beep beep_

My alarm drones persistently into my ear. I groan and reaching out, I slam down, trying to stop the sound.

_Beep Beep Bee- _

The sound shuts off. I'm snuggle deeper into my pillow. Something brushes my nose, and I rub it. I recoil, immediately awake. I look down to see my hand wet with blood, embedded with shards of plastic. My alarm clock lies mangled on the bedside table. _Great_. Time is frozen at 6am. I get up, groggy.

"Hey hey hey Maxie! Wakie wa-! Max! What the hell did you _do_?" Iggy bounds through my bedroom door, freezing as he sees my hand dripping in blood. He rushes over to me, holding me by the shoulders. He looks into my eyes seriously.

"Max, I want you to tell me the truth. Do you c-c-cut?" he asks. I stare at him. I blink. I blink again. He's not joking. I collapse on the floor heaving with laughter, forgetting my cut.

"You-you-you thought," I can't finish my sentence. I gasp for air. Iggy watches me disgruntled, as I struggle to compose myself. I stand up, slightly saner. I point to my mangled alarm, and comprehension dawns on his face. He rolls his eyes in despair.

"No. My best friend isn't a traumatised emo, she's an alarm murderer," he says.

"Wait here," I say, chuckling as I go to the bathroom, picking out the plastic and washing my hand. I dump the slightly bloodied pillowcase into the laundry. _Nudge's_ laundry. I haven't met 'Angel' yet, as I was stuck in _detention _last evening, with an enemy, a slut, a pervert and a teacher with a dry sense of humour. Oh the joys. By the looks of her room though-still firmly locked- 'Angel' still hasn't arrived. Late, probably coming back from holiday. Lucky thing. I lock the door, leaving the key in _my_ side of the door of the bathroom, as I go in to shower and change. Try spending an hour with Iggy. It destabilises you. _Still have to buy that Kevlar_. Thirty minutes later, I'm clean and dressed. I walk out of the bathroom, to see Iggy rifling through my drawers. _Note to self: NEVER leave Iggy alone in my room_. I knock him upside the head, leaving him wincing as I pack my bag.

"I deserved that," he says regretfully.

"But it was worth it!" he winks at me, waggling his eyebrows. I throw a rolled up pair of socks at him, rolling my eyes. Once an Iggy, _always_ an Iggy. Finally I finish, and turn around to see Iggy scrambling back to the couch, trying, keyword being _trying_ to look innocent. I sigh. _Note to self numero dos: Check room for bombs after return_. The snores coming from Nudge's room tell me she's still sleeping. I let her lie in- what's the worst that can happen?

"MAXIMUM RIDE, YOU ARE SOOOOO GOING TO DIE! FEEL MY WRATH!" Nudge screams at me. I stifle a groan, taking a bite of my sandwich. I look down at the sandwich. It's probably going to be my last. Poor sandwich. Poor me. Iggy pats me sympathetically.

"Max! How _could_ you‽ My white skirt has _blood_ on it! AGH! Stop putting your dirty laundry in my pile! And don't even get me started on how late I was to Latin this morning! Ms Hawk chewed me out! I got detention!" Nudge rages.

"I'll owe you," I say tiredly. It's lunch. I'm _exhausted_. I've just had Maths first period, then an 800m run in PE. Bloodstains on a skirt are the _least_ of my worries. But an angry Nudge? _Painful_. Speaking of painful…

"Fang? Get your fat ass off me," I say through gritted teeth. Fang looks down at me, smirking, after striding into the cafeteria and promptly sitting down. On. My. Freaking. LAP.

"Nah, nice view," he says, winking. The _nerve_. Then he promptly turns around, and swallows the remainder of my sandwich. I'm frozen in horror for a second. _Oh no he DIDN'T._

"It was nice knowing you Fangles," Iggy says timidly. I growl.

"Fang. GET YOUR DAMN ARSE OFF ME NOW!" I say furiously. I give him my death glare and Iggy and Nudge flinch.

"Nope," Fang says simply, smirking down at me. I let out a stream of curses, and he sits down next to me, pushing Nudge slightly away much to her amusement. Iggy scoots over me, sitting down on Fang.

"Fangles! It's ok sweetheart, _I'm_ available any day of the week. _Or _night…" Iggy winks saucily at him. Fang watches him, eyes wide, utterly horrified. Now _that_ expression is to _die _for.

"Someone get me a camera!" I say through my laughter. Nudge looks disgusted yet amused. I'm doubled over with laughter, as Iggy wiggles his hips. Nudge pulls Iggy off Fang, much to my dismay.

"Quit laughing Ride, remember PE?" Fang says, mouth twitching at the memory. I scowl. Iggy and Nudge roar with laughter at the memory.

"That's low Walker, _low_," I mutter stabbing my jacket potato.

******************************* Flashback*************************************

I pant heavily after the run, flopping down like a dead fish on the grass. Iggy and Nudge lie back on the grass, basking in the midday sun's glory. I cover my face with Iggy's windbreaker, against the heat, right when I feel a rock hard body flop on top of me.

"Walker, get off me," I groan.

"No," he says. I'm too tired to argue.

"Maxie! How could you let someone else sit on you! Nooooo! I've been replaced!" Iggy sobs.  
"OMG! You too look soooo cute! But it's kinda awkward, isn't it? OMG! I'm being ambigy again. Wait, what's it called again? Ambigi-ambiguous! That's it! I meant to say your position was kinda awkward…wait, why am I speaking in the past tense? I mean, you're still in that position, but wait, _now_ I'm talking in the present tense, so technically ignore my last sentence…but wait, was that my last sentence? OMG! I'm sooooo confused…I mean, don't you just hate that-when people say something like '3 sentences ago', and you never know whether it's inclusive…and OMG! I'm going off on a tangy-tangen-tangent! That's it! Dammit, never have English before a conversation, it confuses you…but wait, you have conversations all the time! That means you should never have English! I mean, I'm ok with English…I'm not one of those school-haters, I mean-"

God that girl can talk up a storm. _Note to self numero tres: Carry earphones at ALL times_. The Nudge Channel is on at all times, _any_ time.

"Thanks," I say wearily as (probably Iggy- I'm still covered with the windbreaker- so I don't know who) covers her mouth. Yet she _still_ talks.

"Seriously guys…position? AWKS!" Iggy screams.

"However….we could use this position later Fang…in our _private_ times," Iggy says saucily.

"EW!" Nudge squeals.

"Oh it's ok Nudge! We can use you too! And Maxie too….the more the merrier…we can be a-a-a-a _foursome_!" Iggy says enthusiastically. Boy that kid has _issues_.

"Ugh. Count. Me. OUT," I say.

"Ok, threesome!" he says, just as cheerfully. Where did I find this maniac?

"Sorry to disappoint Igs, not my deal," Fang says, rolling off of me. I can almost _hear_ the pout in Iggy's voice.

"Looks like it's just you and me then Nudge," he says forlornly.

"Iggy, I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. I'm sure you'll find another, lovely woman," Nudge says sympathetically.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Try the mental hospital Igs," I say, struggling to control the laughter in my voice.

"Great. Not what do you call it if there's only _one _person….a ONESOME!" Iggy trills, happily.

"That's masturbation darling," I say sleepily. I hear a sudden awkward pause, then a roar of laughter. The sound of hurrying staccato heels click in the background.

I peel off the windbreaker, squinting in the sudden light.

"What happened?" I ask, blinded.

"I think you startled that woman with your…..idea," Fang chuckles, gesturing to the horrified old woman behind him. I look at her, and she purses her bright red-purple lips, hurrying down the road. Had she heard me say…? Oh. God. Iggy roars with laughter as she turn hurriedly away, pushing her trolley. God help me, I'm a monster.

*************************End of Flashback************************************

"Ok, ok, cool," Nudge says giggling. There's a sweet moment of silence, before they roar with laughter again.

"Her _face_!" Iggy says, chortling.

"Classic shocked old woman!" he continues. Eventually, I crack a smile, and soon, we're rolling with laughter. The entire cafeteria is watching us, worried. God we are sooooo high.

Nudge and I stumble, chuckling slightly into the living room of our dorm. I collapse heavily onto the couch. Nudge sits down on the rocking arm chair, and I crank up the volume on the stereo.

_'Wearing our vintage misery, no, I think it looked a little better on me,'_

Fall out boy pounds through the speakers, filling the rooms with heavy drumming. I play air guitar on the couch, whipping my hair like a madman. Nudge dances like she's high.

_'The writers keep writing what they-write, somewhere another pretty vein just- died and the scars of tomorrow and I wish you could see that you're the antidote to everything except for me. A constellation of tears on your-lashes'_

We fall back onto the ground, laughing. I close my eyes, and when I open them, I'm looking into a pair of bright blue eyes. O-kaaaay… I get up, and swivel round on the rug. A girl stands in front of me –about my age, maybe a year younger. Her sweet pink lipped smile lights up her pale features.

"Hi! I'm Angel! I live in the other room in the dorm," she smiles, her voice lilting and musical. I can just about imagine the halo behind her blond curls.

"Hi Angel, I'm Nudge, and this is Max! I love your name! Seriously! It's sooooooo pretty! I would _love_ to be called Angel, but I suppose I don't really look like one. You look exactly like one though, you know, with your pretty blond hair. It's curly, but not frizzy like mine! I love it! Yours I mean, not mine. I mean, you're so pretty with your big blue eyes and pale face! I mean, I'm not saying I'm _ugly_, I mean, I'm not some depressed, self-conscious bimbo, but I would _love _ it if I could change my hair. I love Max's hair, I mean, it's all blonde and slightly wavy, and she's so tall and slim and beautiful! I mean, she pulls off the badass look perfectly! I wish she's let me do her make up though, I mean, it would improve her looks…not that she's not pretty, because she is, but make up could get Fang to _really_ look at her, you know? And-"

"Nudge?" I ask.

"Listen very closely, stay very quiet and listen _very_ hard," I say slowly. Nudge frowns in concentration.

"What?" she asks.

"Stay very quiet, and you can possibly hear the sweet sound of you shutting the _hell_ up!" I say. Angel bursts into laughter as Nudge pouts, playfully punching my arm.

"So, Angel, where were you in school yesterday? I mean, we didn't see any bags in your room…." Nudge asks. Angel flashes me a smile.

"I was in Portugal for the holidays. I just arrived this morning and you were probably in school by the time I unpacked," she says happily.

"Cool. Well it looks like our dorm's complete," I say. Nudge-the motor mouth, Angel- the angel, Max- the badass. Perfect.

"Well now that I'm here, we need to do something. Something _fun_…" Angel says.

"MOVIE MARATHON!"

Fang POV

I pick up the last suitcase, moving it into the last room. Iggy stumbles behind me, struggling with his mountain of socks.

"Do you _need_ all this stuff?" I ask wearily, as Iggy stuffs his mound of clothes into the wardrobe.

"Duh!" Iggy says sassily, resuming his attempts to fit everything into the bureau. We finish an hour later, flopping down onto the couch in the living room. I'm soon joined by Gazzy and Ari. Gazzy lives in the room next to Iggy, and is his best friend. They moved into Ari and my room after their roommates refused to put up with exploding underwear. Don't ask. Seriously. Gazzy is a year younger than us, but still a freshman. His twin sister, Angel, is in South. If Angel is an angel, then Gazzy is a baby cherub. His blonde hair spikes up all over his head. Big blue eyes and wide cheeky smile completing his image. He's like the little brother I've never had. Ari is the complete opposite, and my original roommate. He's a little older than me, and a Soph, with a tall muscled but lanky frame, light brown hair, and a faint tan. His little sister is in South, rooming with Angel.

"Yes! Extreme blow ups is on!" Gazzy punches the air in excitement, sitting next to Iggy to discuss the joys of destruction.

"Don't stay up late, we've got a history quiz tomorrow," I remind them before trudging off to bed.

"Yeah yeah mother," Gazzy says, engrossed with the TV. I roll my eyes. This year is going to be interesting. I can be sure of that.

**REVIEW! Please! It encourages me to write! **

**P.s. Does anyone think that the story is moving too fast? Is everything happening too quickly? Tell me, and if you think there should be changes, I can rewrite the chapter or slow down from now on. Any comments are good comments!**


	4. Movie marathons,drugs and enemies

**A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry it took so long to update this, it's just that I have exams this week (not that I've been revising...) and I'm kinda in 'TOO MUCH GOING ON AAAAGHHHHH! BRAIN OVERLOAD' mode. yep. Hope you like this chapter, it's when the plot really comes in. Hope it's not too confusing, my editor decided to be mean and said it's too fast. Meh. Fixed bits, but give me your opinion, you know I love it.  
Disclaimer: If I was James Patterson, I would own Maximum Ride. I would write amazing books. I would be ****_male_****. I am ****_NOT _****James Patterson. Therefore I do ****_NOT_**** own MR. I hope that's clear. **

**Now just for your amusement, her is a slightly M rated quote by Betty White about sexuality that I LOVE.**

**_'Why do people always say grow a pair of balls? Balls are weak and vulnerable (SPOILER ALERT: As demonstrated by Max in this chapter). Now they should say, grow a vagina. Now _****_those_****_ things can take a real_**** thumping,'**

**:D**

I groan, rubbing my eyes wearily. The alarm clock flashes _4am_. I look around, disorientated. I'm lying sprawled across te couch on my back, hair rumpled, top pulled up my stomach. Nudge lies on her stomach, on the floor, with her legs up on the foot of the couch (after probably slipping from it), a popcorn bowl upturned on her head, the kernels dotting her hair. Angel is curled up on the armchair in her pink poodle PJ's, blonde ringlets sprinkled with marshmallows. Thousands of Walkers packets, Galaxy wrappers, and energy drink cans litter the floor, the TV stuck on replay. After watching Daniel Radcliffe tear off his shirt to reveal a very pale, very hairy, _very_ unattractive body for the millionth time, I sigh, getting up. A few wrappers dislodge from the movement, sprinkling like confetti over Nudge. _Where's that damn remote_‽ I almost scream in frustration, tossing packets into the air, whilst hunting for the infernal thing. Finally I find it sandwiched between the floor and Nudge's face. I gently tug it out, cringing at the drool soaking it. _Ew._ I wipe it gingerly on the couch, cutting off the….for lack of a better word…_disturbing_, image. I trudge to the bathroom, washing off the crumbs, embedded in my skin and clothes. Probably the last movie marathon _I_ ever have with _those _two. Probably the last time I watch the Deathly Hallows too…I shudder.

**(A/N: I love HP! That's why Max was watching it, so don't think that just because I hate Daniel Radcliffe-****_and was also mentally traumatised after watching that scene-_****I hate the books!)**

As I towel off, I check the time. _4:30am_. _Plenty of time for a jog._ In Arizona, I used to go for a jog every morning. It was part of routine. The routine that told me where I was meant to be, what I was meant to do, who I am. That routine fell apart after Dad left.

I pull on a sports bra and black slacks, tying my hair up, and picking up my iPod. I scribble out a note for Nudge, sticking it on her head as I walk past.

The sun is barely up yet, leaving the grounds murky blue. It's times like this I remember Arizona, and mom. I wonder vaguely how she is. Hopefully she's getting out more, getting the space she needs. I wonder if I should email her. She's not the type to worry, but I can't help but feel just theslightest bit homesick. Any contact with home is like a lifeline for me. I stop thinking for a bit, just feeling the chill of the wind, the rhythmic pounding of my soles, the solitude of the run. The air is bracing, biting at my limbs as I jog over the campus, Amaranthe pounding through my earphones.

'_I am the Will inside my mind, there is a voice I can't deny- Reach for the past, set the Nexus free at last and the future will be there to save us, trapped in my skin, see the Nexus in your dreams and will you bury me within-'_ I jog in time to the guitar solo, swinging my messy blonde ponytail. I hear screaming start through my earphones. GAH! I _hate_ that bit. It's the only part of the song that sounds fake. That's when I hear a shrill scream reverberate through my skull- and it's not part of the song.

I yank out my iPod, running straight to the forest. Amazingly, the forest is part of campus, but is restricted to seniors and juniors. The seniors use it as a way to deal drugs to students- not that the school know or care. Meaning that it's crack heaven. My mind's telling me that I shouldn't get involved-that it's probably just some high hormonally charged freshman, and that it's probably no good. Yet my feet keep running. I run past trees, thorns and twigs like scrabbling arms tearing at my bare skin. I barely flinch, soles pounding over the undergrowth. I stop suddenly, disorientated by the tall brown and green pinnacles looming over me. That's when I hear the scream again. I set off again, following the direction of the sound. It sounds like a girl- young, probably freshman. She sounds scared. No, strike that. She sounds utterly terrified. I run for what seems like hours, blinded by brown and green, before I run into a clearing. There's a girl-definitely fresh if her petite frame is anything to go by- being pinned to a tree trunk by 2 boys. Maybe they're just having a friendly game of rugby, and those are shrieks of laughter. _Yeah, if friends make each other cry._ That's when the girl spots me. She shakes her long dark hair out of her tearful eyes, dark irises looking straight at me, beseeching. The boys stop tearing at her clothes to look at what she's watching. It would be the _perfect_ distraction technique. There's only one problem. She's watching _me._ One boy wolf whistles, pale eyebrows raising high over sea foam eyes.

"Care to join in, sweetheart?" Blondie sneers, revealing perfect shiny whites. He leans hard against the girl, making her gasp and struggle in pain. He smirks. I growl, seeing red. _Bastard._

"You know what? Here's a shocker. I'll pass," I say furiously. That's when I do the worst thing I've ever done. I run for them.

Blondie knees me straight in the stomach. The girl's too shocked to move, watching us like a deer frozen in headlights.

"RUN!" I scream as I'm backhanded. I hit the tree behind me headfirst, and I slump down to the ground. I can feel my slacks being torn by a knife. _Dammit, they have a goddamned knife!_ I swat his hand away, as the other boy comes at me, punching me in the jaw. I recoil, feeling blood in my mouth. The girl is still frozen, clutching her wrist. Has she twisted it? I feel anger surge in me, and I run at Blondie, feinting at a head butt, leaving him to block me with his head and arms. _Idiot._ I land a roundhouse kick right at him, hitting his head on the way. He groans, falling back. Boy 2 comes for me, trying to get me into a headlock. He pushes me hard against a tree, pinning my arms from behind, my legs with either of his. I try to scream, only to be slapped sharply. He comes up to me, breathing hard into my face. I recoil, smelling the pungent stench of drugs lacing his breath. He sticks his tongue down my throat, and I choke, gasping for clean air, as his tongue slides around my mouth, leaving a disgustingly sharp, bitter taste in its wake. I bite down, _hard_. He yowls, pulling his tongue out of my mouth, but refusing to let go of me. _Just doesn't know when to give up_. I tilt my head back, getting the leverage I need, before slamming it forward hard, hitting him on the jaw. He screams in agony, as I knee him, _hard._ He curses freely, as I run. It's just my luck that Blondie decides to get up. He dashes for me, slamming against me hard. I hear a painful crunch, and feel my breath leave my body. He flings me to the grass, stepping down hard on my arm. I grit my teeth in pain as white hot agony shoots through my veins like electricity. I pull away from him, as hard as possible, throwing him off balance. With a jab upside the head, he's out cold. I get to my feet, gasping, before grabbing the frozen girl's wrist and running for my life through the trees. We run, panting heavily, till the sounds of groaning and curses in the clearing are far behind us. After what seems like hours, we see light filtering through the leaves, and we burst out onto tarmac. I don't think I've ever loved tarmac more. The girl looks at me through wide, worried eyes.

"Are you ok?" she asks. I try to smile, but I think it comes out more like a grimace.

"I'm fine," I say. Biggest understatement of my _life._ My ribs are burning- I can barely _breathe_ without feeling like I'm dying. My head is killing me, and I can feel my jaw and cheek throbbing. My arm hangs at a skewed angle. Repulsed, I focus on the girl.

"You?" I ask.

"Fine, now. Thanks," she says, nodding shakily.

"Ella," she says, offering a hand. I take it, trying not to wince, as she takes my injured arm.

"Max," I say.

"Max…I'm freshman. Look, don't tell anyone I was in the forest, ok? I'll get expelled. People will assume I was getting drugs. I'll….look. It's hard to explain, ok? I- Just don't tell anyone I was there, or what happened. I'm begging you," Ella pleads fervently.

"Ella, if you're on drugs, I can help. If they're bullying you, or something, you have to tell someone. For god's sake, tell _me_. It's not going to get better unless you _tell_ someone how to help you," I say, focusing on Ella. She opens her mouth in protest.

"Don't you even try to tell me you're not in trouble. Those boys wanted to _rape_ you Ella. You're in some pretty deep shit," I say blandly. _Ella, not the pain. ELLA, NOT THE PAIN._ Ella bites her lip. She looks ready to explain, when a girl runs up to us, panting. She swings her ginger plaits across her shoulders, pushing thin wire glasses up her freckled nose.

"There you are Ells! I've been looking EVERYWHERE for you! Come on! We'll be late for German! Gods, Where were you? You're all muddy! What _will_ I do with you?" The girl says, rolling her eyes. Ella looks at me, worried. _Worried about me? Or worried I'll tell her secret? _I fight hard to keep my face blank.

"Chill JJ. I'm fine, just went for a walk and fell over," Ella says looking dazed.

"Bye Max, are you sure you're ok?" she asks fervently.

"I'm fine, just take care," I say, nodding my head vigorously. 'JJ' gives me a long, curious look, before tugging Ella off to the main building. I try to stop from falling, before dragging myself to the nearest tower. I feel blood sliding out of the corner of my mouth, and a trickle of blood sliding down my temple. I ignore it, concentrating on not hitting my arm or moving my ribs too much. I gasp and drag my way to the tall grey pinnacle before me. '_North Tower_' the plaque reads. I pull myself past winding halls and corridors, trudging up the meandering staircase. My brain, still sluggish, registers something I heard yesterday. A room, but which one? Every movement is utter hell. I finally, pull myself up to my last ray of hope. I nock on the polished door. I almost faint with relief as it swings open. I see a wide eyed Fang.

"Max‽" he asks, horrified.

"Hey Fangles, care to help?" I ask, before slipping into darkness.

I open my eyes. I feel a persistent pressure on my mouth and nose, and realise I'm breathing into an oxygen mask. An IV drips into my arm. It's too white. Too bright. Too clean. Too unnatural. I finally feel sufficiently annoyed with the beeping, and yank out the tubes attached to me. The IV drips onto the floor, the Heart Rate Monitor announcing my death. Fang rushes into the room, horrified.

He looks at me, then his eyes narrow, and he rolls his eyes.

"Iggy, don't get your hopes up. She's not dead. She's trying to commit suicide," he shouts back into the polished hallway. I clamber awkwardly out of bed, as Iggy runs in with the doctor.

"Miss Ride! You shouldn't be out of bed! Need I remind you that you have several broken ribs, minor trauma to the skull, a broken arm, and are suffering from major blood loss!" The doctor baffles, fluttering thin, veined hands dramatically to illustrate his point. I roll my eyes.

"I'm fine," I say. I lied. To an extent. I feel better than I did before, but my body is sore, and I have a persistent headache.

"Really? Have you _seen_ yourself?" Iggy asks incredulously. I raise an eyebrow, and he passes me a small hand held mirror. _Jesus freaking Christ_. A beautiful dark bruise is blossoming along the bottom of my left jaw, a faint grey bruise shadowing my cheekbone, and a set of bandages wrapped around the width of my head, under my fringe. My hair is ruffled, and slightly messy, eyes tired. In short, I look like living hell. _And I feel like it too_. I wince as a sharp fork of pain sparks up my side. Fang raises an eyebrow, noticing. I ignore him.

"Yes, I look dreadful. Absolutely, amazingly ugly. In fact, I look so _utterly _ horrendous, that I am disgusted," I say with relish. They stare at me as if I'm mad.

"So absolutely revolting, that I don't think I need a doctor at all. In fact, what I need is a plastic surgeon," I say slowly. Realisation slowly dawns on Fang's face. Before he has time to react, I continue,

"So I better go find one," and with that, I dash out of the room.

I hear the doctor screaming after me.

"DO NOT RUN! YOU'LL STRAIN YOUR RIBS!"

Ah, the joy.

I limp to my room, Fang and Iggy supporting me the whole way. Fang brushes against my ribs accidentally, and I bite my lip to stop from screaming. He gives me a reproachful look.

"And _this_ is why you should've stayed in hospital," he says. I roll my eyes, valiantly struggling up the winding stairs. Eventually, we reach the top. I fumble with the keys. The door swings open, revealing an empty, and clean room. _Wow, they actually CLEANED_. Fang guides me to the sofa, and I collapse against the cushions, groaning at the pain. Fang and Iggy sit in kitchen chairs, drawn up beside the table.

"I think you better explain," Iggy says. I look at him, bewildered. Explain _what_? Fang rolls his eyes, taking in my baffled expression.

"Why you ended up half dead outside our door, perhaps?" he asks dryly. _Damn._ I was hoping not to have to talk about it. I just generally have a bad feeling about it- like when something unpleasant happens, and you try to forget it.

"Oh, _that_," I say dismissively.

"Nothing big. I just…went for a jog. I heard someone shout, and I went to the forest, and I saw a girl about to be raped. I tried fighting the boys, and there was a small fight. Honestly, it's nothing," I say offhandedly. Iggy probably heard the honesty in my voice, because he leaves it. Fang watches me with his dark eyes, studying me. He believes me- I can tell. I think he just knows there's more to it than I'm letting on. I feel a twinge of guilt, like I've betrayed Ella. Ella….what _did_ happen? She seems nice, clean, honest. What was she doing in coke cave? Maybe she was just walking, like me, and landed in trouble…Why was she so keen to make sure I was ok? Maybe she was grateful and was worried about me…Why were they attacking her? That's the question that stumps me. Other than the obvious, they don't seem to have a motive for raping her. They boys seemed young, fresh, maybe soph. They seemed well off, cared for, nor were they wearing the school uniform. Why come to a university campus, hide out in a forest where hardly anyone who isn't high goes, just to rape a girl? Probably for the drugs. Maybe it was a drug deal gone wrong. Maybe they were getting high, and forced crack on her, and she refused. They got angry. It isn't unheard of, but all the same it doesn't sound like the full story. There was another motive. A personal vendetta.

"Who were they?" Fang asks, breaking my train of thought.  
"I'm sorry?" I ask, confused.

"Who were the boys? What did they look like?" he explains, curious. I describe them.

"Both seemed young, maybe our year or a little older, well off. One was blonde, green-blue eyes, other had brown hair, brown eyes. Pretty average faces," I round off. _Except for the fact that they looked like male models._ Yeah right, maybe for Drug Daily. Fang's expression turns stony at my description, dark eyes swirling with an emotion I can't place.

"Blonde? Blue-green eyes?" he repeats, expression growing dark as I nod. He curses sharply, and Iggy looks at him, scared and serious. That in itself is wrong. Iggy. Serious. NO.

"Dylan?" he whispers to him. Fang looks murderous. He nods sharply.

"How is he even ali-?" Iggy asks, when Fang shuts him up with a pointed glance. What was he about to say? I'm about to ask him whether he knows them, when the door crashes open, revealing a panting Nudge and Angel.

"MAX‽" they scream, running to me. I wince as the sofa bounces under their added weight.

"OMG Max! What happened? I saw you weren't here this morning, and we got worried, but then we saw the note, so we thought you'd be back soon. Then you didn't turn up for any classes! I mean, now, _I_ was just thinking, Max doesn't bunk without a reason‽ I mean, what _happened_? You look like you've been hit by a truck! What ha-‽" Nudge babbles, eyes wide. Iggy covers her mouth.

"I'm fine Nudge. I got into a little fight when I was walking. There were some guys harassing a freshman, and I helped her out," I sigh, recounting the events. She and Nudge nod, satiated.

"Well I'm glad you're ok Max," Angel says sweetly. She looks at Fang and Iggy, and raises an eyebrow.  
"I don't think I know you…?" she asks.  
"Fang, Iggy. Meet Angel, my roommate. Angel, meet Fang and Iggy," I say.

"OMG! I forgot you don't know them! Well, now you do, so I should say that you _didn't_ know, them, but you get the point, so I suppose it's ok. Fang's that guy who saved Max, Angel! You know, on the first day when she was about to fall down the stairs and Fang swooped in and stopped her from falling? They were stuck in detention later with Iggy, but that's because of another reason. Iggy's this reeeeally perverted pyromaniac, but he's good fun. I mean, except for those times when he acts reeeally gay. OMG! I keep saying reeeaaally! Well, actually, only twice, but it feels like a lot because it happened before. Not 'before' like 'before you were born' but 'before' like 'two seconds ago'. I mean, twice isn't really that much, but it feels like, dejjy, dei, what is it‽ Déjà vu! That's it! Remember that script we're doing in English? Yeah! Those twins who get caught in a time warp and they have this sense of déjà vu when everything happens again? Yeah! Like that! Only reeaally different…OMG! I just said reeaally agin! AAAGGGHHHH! I mean, brain overload! AA-"

_Jesus freaking Christ_.

"Guys, I think we should leave Max alone. She's probably reeaally tired after today. NO, Nudge! Don't talk about 'reeaally' again! Goodnight Max, get some sleep," Angel says. I sigh. Best idea, _ever._

When I wake up, it's 7am. I'm sore, but I can walk easier. I have a quick shower and change, before going downstairs. Nudge and Angel are already eating breakfast.

"Hi Max!" Nudge waves enthusiastically.

"Morning Max, how are you feeling?" Angel asks softly.

"Hey Nudge. Fine, thanks Angel," I nod, taking a bite out of my toast. The day goes pretty normally. Iggy is perverse, Fang is annoying, Angel is sweet, and Nudge is…Nudge. It's not until Maths that something happens. Maths is the lesson before lunch, and as any unfortunate teacher should know, teens generally get crabby when hungry, so a Maths lesson before lunch, is _not_ going to be fun. The classroom is stuffy, so we're left doodling on the desks or backs of our books as Mr Milbern drones on about parabolas. I sigh, eyes heavy, stomach empty. The clock's hands twitch their way round, when the door opens. I don't bother to look up, completely disinterested.

"Ah, you must be the new boy. I was told that you'd be coming this morning. Little late, aren't we? Perhaps you know Nick Walker?" the teacher asks. Most of the year have arrived from holiday already. This guy's lucky to be able to go for so long.

"Yes, In fact, I do know him," I look up at the voice, my heart in my throat. The voice is achingly smooth and soft, with a soft undertone of threat. I stare at the new student, eyes wide, frozen at my desk. The soft blonde hair, dazzling white teeth, deep oceanic stare. It's _him_.

**What didja think? REVIEW! PLEASE! FOR A YOUNG GIRL'S SANITY!**


	5. Surprises, caffeine, and Tequila

**A/N: Hi guys! I'm taking a risk here and uploading this...haven't sent it to my editor. Gah...I'm worried. She may or may not kill me. If I am unable to continue this, blame her, after she breaks every one of my fingers...meh, she wouldn't do that.**

**Who am I kidding. She ****_so_**** would.**

**Please enjoy, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. James Patterson has full rights...**

**(he also owns the Womens' Murder Club Series, which is amazing, so please read it! I would love to be like Lindsay or Yuki...they are my role models!)**

God _does_ have a heart. Wow. And here I was, expecting _him_ to sit next to me. Instead, he's seated at the front left hand corner of the room, as far away from me as humanely possible. Dylan Michaels. I see girls fawning over him in his seat, leaning across his desk, curving their long painted talons around his clothes and hair. The worst thing is that he's _enjoying _it. A few charming smiles, a mysterious wink or two, and he's got them, hook line and sinker. _Suckers._

I studiously ignore him for the entirety of the lesson, scrawling down notes, paying rapt attention to every word the teacher says. A few times I see him turn around, and I stiffen, paranoid. By the time I look up, his blue eyed gaze is on the brunette two seats away from me. Every time his hand moves, I reel, remembering how fast his arm had moved to hit me yesterday. Once, he drops his rubber, and I flinch, almost jumping a foot into the air as he bends down. _Get a grip Max_. I'm not worried. I wasn't worried when I first saw him, and I'm not worried now. It's just the mystery, like adrenaline spiking through my veins. I feel claustrophobic, like there's too much going on inside my brain. I close my eyes and think, going through every event that's happened since yesterday morning.

_Went for a jog._ Ha. A '_jog'_ is an interesting way of putting it.

_Heard Ella shout. _Shout? More like bloody rip her vocal chords.

_Saw her getting raped by Dylan and 'x'_. I'll call brunette 'x' for now.

_Got into fight with them._ Fight? Understatement of the century.

_Ran away with Ella. _That sounded better in my head.

_Ella pleaded me not to tell anyone she was in the wood._ Why? Dylan wasn't going to the school then- so why target us? Did she mean to go there or was it all a coincidence?

_She left._ Why do I feel like Ella is more involved in this than she's letting on?

_I went to Fang and Iggy's room_. The journey to Hell.

_I woke up in hospital_. That went well.

_Dylan turns up at our school._ Coincidence? I think not. Unfortunately for me, none of my friends are in my Maths class. Fang and Iggy are probably tossing a dodge ball around, Nudge and Angel dissecting a frog. I wish. No, instead, I'm the one who has to deal with being stuck with a man I saw almost rape a girl- then try and hurt me. FML. I'm tearing my hair out in frustration, when the bell rings and I dash out. I can't help but shiver as I run past Dylan. I run down the hallways, unable to shake off the disconcerting notion that I'm being watched.

I go straight to my dorm room. I don't feel like facing the others yet. Fang. What happened with that? One moment he's Mr I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it-and-I'm-worried-about-you-c os-you-look-like-shit, and then the next second, he's Mr Something-horrible-happened-in-my-past-and-a-certa in-blonde haired-blue eyed-someone-is-dragging-it-up. I mean, what the hell‽ Dylan and him have a past. I can't help but feel curious. God I sound like a jealous girlfriend. _My boyfriend has a past with a MALE called Dylan who also almost raped a girl in a place where only druggies go_. I should _so_ be on EastEnders.

**(A/N: No offence to people who watch and like EastEnders-personally, I haven't seen it. I'm more of a cop drama person, like the Mentalist or CSI, or Poirot-though that doesn't count. Ack I sound like Nudge-no offence Nudge.)**

Assignments have been piling up over the week. These teachers have no mercy. First year of university, and we get projects from ever single lesson. I don't have time to go out, call my mum, _enjoy _myself- hell, I don't have time to _sleep._ Then again, my lack of sleep may not have to do with school at all. School has given me more drama in a few days, than I've ever seen on _Gossip Girl._ Kids, don't watch TV- they _lie._

I slouch against the couch in my usual posture, when I hear a sharp knock at the door. God, who is it? It can't be Angel or Nudge, obviously. They're probably in the canteen. I've met Gazzy and Ari and honestly I don'tthink that that's them, missing _Lunch, _to hang out with me. What can I say, they love their food. Iggy just wouldn't knock and Fang is….well _maybe_ it's Fang. I sigh, getting up and unlocking the door. I swing the door open, and my eyes widen.

Shit.

You know when I said God has a heart? Yeah? Screw that. Forget him sitting next to me; Dylan Freaking Michaels is standing in front of my door. I stand there, wide eyed, staring at him. He's dressed casually, in a sky blue t-shirt and jeans, yet he still looks like a model. He smiles easily at me, but his eyes are ice cold chunks of aquamarine, alight with some amusement.

"Hi, Max, right? I'm Dylan Michaels, in your Maths lesson I think. I'm kinda new, and I've lost my way to the canteen…could you help me out?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. I snap out of my reverie, looking at him.

"Uhhh…" _Genius Max. Pure genius. Make it obvious, will you? _He may have a perfectly innocent explanation for being here- he may not even recognise me. _Yeah, just like how innocent he was in Meth Mainland._

"I was looking for a cup of coffee, in the canteen. I'm a caffeine addict- totally crazy about it," he says, flashing a blindingly white smile at me. _Oh yeah, you're crazy alright._

"The canteen is probably full now, the coffee is a bit of a first come first served thing. I doubt there'll be any left," I say blandly, closing the door on him. Dylan moves forward slightly, indicating that he's not about to be shrugged off. I feel panic rise like bile in my throat, at the slightly warning movement.

"Well that's too bad, but I really need that caffeine. Got any? We can talk over a cuppa?" he asks hopefully. Damn he's kinda cute. _Shut up Max, you're talking about a rapist._ _Possible_ rapist. All previous attraction vanishes, only to reignite slightly as he grins at me. I open the door letting him in. He walks past me easily, settling down on one of the high chairs around the island in the kitchen. I close the door, letting all possible hopes of escape close behind in with an assaulter. Way to go Max. Refusing him would probably be more suspicious though. I'm clinging on desperately to the hope that he doesn't recognise me. After all, it wasn't a long fight, and if he was high, then he may have been delirious.

"Milk? Or Sugar?" I ask, turning to the counter.

"Milk, three sugars," he says flashing me his pearly whites. I turn back to the coffee, dazzled. How can he have some much coffee and sugar and still have those shiners? Unfair. Totally unfair. I take my time, taking little paranoid glances over my shoulder. Dylan seems to be texting furiously, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration. Who is it? His drug dealer? Is it a business? I look over his shoulder, getting a spoon from the drawer behind him for an excuse to see who he's texting. _Stupid Max._ He's playing _Angry Birds._ Wow, better get on the phone to RSPCA. I feel like slapping myself. I pour us a cup each, handing him one steaming mug. Hopefully he won't notice how much my hands are shaking.

"Thanks," he says. He smiles again. _Enough with the smiling retard! You're giving me a headache_. We sip in silence for a while, listening to the clock.

"So," I start awkwardly. _Wow, __**me**__ being __**awkward**__? What a surprise_.

"Where are you from?" I ask. Dylan looks up at me, in surprise and amusement. He studies me carefully, before taking a sip of coffee.

"Florida," he says promptly. I whistle.

"Florida to sunny Cali. That's a distance," I say, eyes wide. He shrugs it off.

"You?"  
"Arizona," I say. There's a long pause afterwards.

"Good coffee," he nods appreciatively.

"Thanks," I say. What a conversation. I think about half an hour passes before we both finish our coffees and he gets up. I feel the familiar clenching in my gut.

"It was nice meeting you Max, and thanks for the coffee. Hope I'll see you around," he says. I force a smile onto my face. _He doesn't remember me._ He walks to the door, and opens it. I sigh in relief, loosening my stranglehold on my mug. That's when Dylan looks over his shoulder at me, halfway out the door.

"By the way Max," he says, smiling shiftily.

"I remember,"

I vaguely hear a door opening and closing. I close my eyes swallowing hard.

"Oh my god, Max! Are you alright‽" I hear a voice ask frantically. I ignore it, pressing my hands to my temples, breathing erratically. I hear someone talk on their phone, through the mist. I hear the door open and close again and more footsteps. I feel arms encircle me, prying my hands away from my head. I look up, still hyperventilating. I see dark eyes.

"Max, look at me. Calm down. I want you to breathe in time. One, two, one, two," Fang says calmly. I try listening to him, but my breath hitches and speeds up. He takes his hand, putting it against his chest. I feel his heartbeat, slow and reassuring under my fingers.

"Breathe with me," he says again, and slowly, my heart slows to match his.

"Good," he says. I look around, to see Iggy, Nudge and Angel surrounding us, worried. I'm sitting in a foetal position on the couch, a broken mug lies shattered on the floor. I vaguely remember a pair of sea green eyes, and slowly the dull pain of realisation comes back. Dylan. I swallow hard, gaining the control I need.

"What happened Max?" Fang asks quietly. I feel the worry rolling off of him. Quietly, I explain. Fang's eyes grow hard and furious, Iggy looks shocked, and Nudge and Angel have similar expressions of varying degrees of horror.

"He came _here_?" Fang asks quietly. His voice is low and soft, and if anyone else saw him, they would think he's calm. They would be _so_ wrong. His dark eyes are alight with raw fury, like burning coals.  
"He came _here,_ to your _dorm,_ and _threatened_ you?" he asks, venom lacing every word.

"Well, technically he didn't threaten me, he just confirmed my suspicions that he knew," I say, calmness taking control.

"Dude, he said that he knows you," Iggy says quietly. I see Fang's face change. I had almost forgotten about that- it had seemed so insignificant. His first words had not seemed so important, as the speaker had been.

***************************Flashback************** *******************

The clock's hands twitch their way round, when the door opens. I don't bother to look up, completely disinterested.

"Ah, you must be the new boy. I was told that you'd be coming this morning. Little late, aren't we? Perhaps you know Nick Walker?" the teacher asks. Most of the year have arrived from holiday already. This guy's lucky to be able to go for so long.

"Yes, In fact, I do know him,"

****************************End of Flashback****************************

How does he know Fang? Fang winces, as though remembering is painful for him.

"That means he's here to-"

"Cut it out Ig," Fang grinds out.

"But Fang-"

"Iggy." The word seems to hold meaning, and the brothers look at each other, eyes swirling with thoughts and emotions I can't begin to read, like looking through frosted glass. I can see the ghosts, but what are the details?

Fang looks at me, and our gazes meet. I know he sees the questions in my eyes, but where are the answers in his?

Fang and Iggy take it in turns to be my bodyguard for the week. After Dylan's first day, they're both paranoid. Thankfully I only have to see him in Maths, Gym and Science. _Only_. The whole bodyguard thing started off cute- I mean, I love their company, and the jealous stares from the Queen Bees have been a little more than amusing (actually, more like outrageously funny). Then it got annoying.

"God you two! Iggy, get off me! This is just harassment," I complain, as Iggy takes me to my Maths class, arms caging me like a prison.  
"I don't need this protection- if he hasn't tried anything yet, he won't. And anyway, I handled it fine _myself_ last time, and I can handle myself when it happens again," I say vehemently.

"The way you say '_when_ it happens' instead of '_if_ it happens' gives me more than enough reassurance," says Fang, dryly. I scowl at the mishap.

"And anyway, your '_fine'_ handling, ended up with you in hospital," Iggy points out. I slap his wrist, making him yelp. They follow me like lost puppies, Iggy my prison, Fang walking beside me cheerily. _Cheerily_. Grumbling, I enter the classroom, going for my seat. Fang and Iggy sit on either side of me, pushing the brunette next to me to the end.

"Sorry," Iggy says, not at all sounding like it.  
"How the hell do you manage to sit in my lessons? You don't even have the same schedule as me!" I ask furiously. Fang just smirks at me. I hear a cacophony of giggles. Murmuring has already started, no doubt sparked by my two _handsome_ jailers. After another girl winks at them, I growl, getting up. I pick my books up, ignoring the baffled cover teacher.

"Miss Ride, where are you going? Class is not over!" he bleats.

"Max, where are you going?" Iggy calls after me. I would have stopped at the concern lacing his voice, if I hadn't heard the tremor at the end. The damn idiot's _laughing_ at me.

"Away from you two!" I shout back, striding down the hall. I hear them roaring with laughter behind me.

The days pass tersely. A routine has emerged from the haphazard start to the year. Wake up, meet up with Fang and Iggy, go to school, go to dorm, finish homework with Nudge and Angel and hang out with the _whole_ group, (+Ari and Gazzy) before going to sleep. Not too bad, except for the strained atmosphere. The Dylan incident put us all on edge, and we're all jittery. One science lesson, we were dissecting frogs. It was all fine, until I looked at the desk behind me to see Dylan, and his partner, a pretty Asian girl, working together. Dylan was holding the scalpel. I froze in shock, looking at the blade in his hand. Memories of his knife flooded through my brain, and my breathing had sped up. I had turned back, desperately biting my lip, trying to ignore his voice, his blade, _him._ Fang was more observant than I give him credit for, and calmed me down, after noticing what I was worried about.

Fang. Another enigma. I've noticed the little covert glances between Iggy and him, and can't help but wonder. The weeks have been so tense, that when Nudge suggested a night out, we all jumped at the chance.

"Guys?" Nudge calls out through the darkness. I hear someone turn on the switch, and light floods through the room. We were all watching Pirates of the Caribbean, definitely one of my favourite movies, but none of us were into it.

"Yeah?" I ask. Nudge fidgets with the sleeve of her top, looking anxiously between us.

"I was thinking," she admits reluctantly. That has got to be the shortest sentence she's ever said.

"There's a shocker," Gazzy says, as Nudge glares at him. The two haven't been on good terms. I think Gazzy's downwind problems affect Nudge more than the rest of us.

"I think we should all go out somewhere, dancing maybe. Just to relax," she explains. We nod, understanding her thinking. We're too wound up, as though waiting for the jack in the box to spring. Nudge looks visibly calmer now that she's realised we're all on board.

"How about that dancing club down the street? All Nighter, right? There's that wicked Italian place a couple of doors down too," Ari says casually. We nod, agreeing. Angel looks apprehensive, but that's mostly because of Ari. She's always been wary around him- due to his height and wolfish grin. He's too outgoing for Angel.

"Tomorrow night?"

"It's a plan,"

I sigh, letting Nudge swipe smoky eye shadow and eye liner over my eyes. She's totally in her element, dressing up Angel like a little cherub in a poufy candy floss pink, strapless dress. Nudge's dressed in a yellow prom style dress, and oversized jewellery. Not my taste, but it works on her. I refused to let her dress me, so I'm wearing my favourite (well, probably _only_) dress. Simple deep halter neck, with short tulle skirt, and thick white belt. All black, of course. My hair's up in a simple, _very_ messy bun, with my bangs falling over my eyes; little waves of hair escaping around my face. I wind the silver ribbons from my stiletto knee high boots up my legs. Nudge, Angel, Fang, Gazzy, Ari and of _course_ Iggy. Going clubbing seems alien, after the drama. Ordinary. Ah well, sometimes the ordinary spices up life. And more _spice_ is _just_ what I need, isn't it?

I hear a knock at the dorm door, before the door slams open anyway, courtesy of Iggy. He strides in, wearing baggy jeans, a yellow t shirt, denim jacket and a huge smile. His eyes widen when he sees me. He wipes away fake tears, as he and Ari (dressed from head to toe in dark green) coo over me.

"Look Ari bear! Our little baby's growing up! They just grow up so _fast_!" he sobs onto Ari's shoulder. I roll my eyes, as Ari, grinning picks me up, and swirls me around. Laughing, I drop to the floor, to see Fang watching us, amusement lighting up his features. Leather jacket, black V-neck, jeans, yep, that's Fang.

"Max! You'll mess up your HAIR! Ari, Be more considerate!" Nudge reprimands from behind me.

"Damn my hair, Nudge, let's _go_!"

And with those words of wisdom, we're whisked away into the night.

I down what must be my sixth tequila. I hear Fang mutter thanks to God for my high alcohol tolerance. Nudge is dancing her newly straightened hair wild with a dance partner she's found. An African boy called Palom, who seems even more hyper and childish than she is. Angel is sitting reservedly at a table, sipping an orange juice and chatting animatedly with some boy. Iggy's cheeks are red from the number of hits he's taken from failed pick-up lines. Don't believe me when I say they're failed? This is his list.

**(A/N: Best Pick-up lines ever! Heard them on a video, loved them! If any of you out there have any good lines, send them to me! I'd love to have a little competition going for the best! No, this is not a cheap way to get reviews ;D. BTW, I do not own any of the following epic pick-up lines except for the last one- which was all mine)**

_-I'll be Burger King and you be McDonald's. I'll have it my way, and you'll be lovin' it. _

_-Roses are red, violets are blue, I like spaghetti, let's go screw_

_-Your body's name must be visa, because it's everywhere I want to be_

_- You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy_

_-Hi, my name is Pogo, want to jump on my stick?_

_-It's a good thing that I have my library card. Why? Because I am totally checking you out!_

_-Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got FINE written all over you._

_-My love for you is like diarrhea, I just cant hold it in!_

_-Are you constipation? Because you're making me hard!_

Fang and I burst out laughing so hard, everyone gives us strange looks. We don't care. And god, Iggy wonders why he hasn't got a date yet. The music is so loud, that none of us attempt to make conversation. This isn't the place to mingle, it's to live and forget. The night goes by in a blur, full of dancing with strangers and Fang, full of drinking with friends and Fang, full of laughing with…Fang. He's everywhere I look, smirking…but that might just be the tequila. My head is spinning like a top. It must be about midnight when Angel suggests we go home. I'm completely wasted, much to Fang's amusement (and Nudge's horror), so we agree. I can't walk straight, so I end up flung over Fang's shoulder ungraciously like a sack of potatoes. I giggle, (which in itself is just _wrong_), swaying in front of Fang's back.

"Fang?" I ask, as we walk back to campus.

"Yep?" he asks.

"You have a cute ass," I say dreamily. I feel Fang stop abruptly, and my nose collides with his muscled back.

"Ow! Fa-ang!" I moan, rubbing my pink nose.

"_What did you say‽"_ he asks, sounding strangled. I hear Iggy and Ari snigger. Gazzy 'ewws'.

"Fang?"

"Yes?"

"I looooooove you soooooooo much," I say dopily, grinning at the back of Fang's leather jacket. Just as he starts walking again (faster this time) he stops, and I collide with him again.

"Ow Fang! Stop tha-at!" I whine.

"God, what am I going to _do_ with you?" Fang says, exasperated, walking again.

"Fang?"

"Ye-? Wait. No. I don't want to know. Shut up Max," Fang says, cautious. I laugh.

"Stupid Fang,"

Then I black out.

I feel myself being laid on the bed, and I yawn sleepily. I blink, rubbing my eyes. Fang stands over me, hair tousled, clothes rumpled. He looks down at me curiously.

"What?" I ask.

"You're really intent on this- aren't you? You're drawn to trouble- drawn to accidents. How you managed to be there with _Dylan _is beyond my understanding. You really are a handful," he says, almost fondly. I frown, annoyed.

"I am _not_…it just so happens that trouble is drawn to _me_," I say, pouting. Fang rolls his eyes.

"I'm not arguing with you when you're drunk Max, get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow morning, it's a Saturday anyway," he says. I struggle to sit up, but he pushes me back down under the covers.

"Night Max," he says, brushing his lips across mine. He leans back, and our eyes widen. What. Just. Happened?

It was a millisecond, but I can still feel the electricity. I _have_ had a lot to drink though…I haven't imagined it, have I? I look into his dark eyes, and for the first time in the night, I wish that I'm sober.

**A/N: Soooo...what do you think? I had tests this week, and I promised myself I wouldn't upload this until they were over, so the second I can, I'm uploading! Tell me what you think. Sorry I change the scene so much...I just really don't feel like boring you with details- and I don't think it's toooo confusing...**

**REVIEW! Please please please please! **


	6. Hangovers, Jealousy, and Skype calls

**A/N: Hi guys! I just wanted to warn you, this is a bit of a 'domestic' chapter...not much drama. I mean, come on people, this isn't a soap opera! But, I felt there should be some normalcy, and I wanted to explore Max and co.'s normal life, before jumping it. I've probably revealed a little too much, so I'll shut up. Bye!**

**P.S. Sorry for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. I didn't send it to my editor so I don't know whether there are mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride! But! I ****_do _****own FROZEN MEMORIES! AND KYLE! No? No? Oh, ok then. Fine. Be like that. Anyway want Kyle? I give you free rights to do whatever you want with him. Narcissistic buffoon.**

Oh, good morning hangover, I've been expecting you. My head pounds like my skull's being hammered by a dumbbell. I turn over onto my back, letting the cool zephyrs chill my hot, flushed, face. I open my eyes, only to be blinded by the blindingly bright, fluorescent lights. I curse softly, curling into a ball on my side, deep under the dark covers. I sigh. God I hate hangovers. It's not like I get wasted every night, in fact, it's probably the first time I've touched alcohol since dad left. Still, hangovers are just painful- _no strike that, __**excruciating**__- _reminders that I had fun last night. My body is sore and feverish, and I seem to have a migraine. A bad one. I can't take pain meds, because they'll interfere with the pills my doctor has me on for my ribs. I still need to take them for a few more days, to reduce swelling. It's ironic, that my doctor prescribes me pain relief, only to increase my suffering. And so I lie, helpless, while an anvil slams into my brain. The doorbell rings, and I cringe at the sound. Nudge and Angel are probably still asleep, so I force my eyes open, shivering my way to the door, cocooned in my duvet. I open it gently, bleary eyed, to see Fang, looking as emotional as ever. Just like a teenage girl- isn't he? All the smiles and squeals. _Not._ Iggy stands next to him, looking as perky as ever. Just like a teenage girl- isn't he? All the smiles and squeals. _Definitely._

"Hey Max," Fang says, and I cringe.

"Not so loud," I whisper. Fang's eyes widen slightly as he takes in my dishevelled appearance, and ashen face. I can tell my lips are cracked- surprising, considering how much I drank.  
"Max, are you okay? What's wrong?" Iggy asks, as quietly as possible. I still wince.

"Migraine," I mumble, breathily. It's so quiet, I'm surprised they even heard it, but they did.

"Why don't you take meds?" he asks, confused and worried.

"Can't take them with my rib meds," I say tiredly. Fang frowns faintly, showing his displeasure, but I ignore it. He's scrutinising me, as though waiting for me to react to something…but what? All I can remember is being carried back to my room by Fang, and waking up. Dancing, carried, hangover. Dancing carried hangover. DANCING. CARRIED. HANGOVER. Satisfied that no new information can possible be gleaned from this, I curl up on the sofa.

"What happened last night?" I asked sorely. I see something flash in Fang's eyes, but I'm too slow this morning to discern it.

"I can't remember a _thing_," Iggy says proudly.

"Hear hear. All I know is that I drank triple, saw double, and stayed _single_," Nudge says, flopping onto an armchair, a rumpled, looking Angel in tow.

"God, at least _you_ don't remember what you did. _I_ had to live through seeing Iggy, _drunk,_" Ari says, lumbering through the door with Gazzy.

"Nah, come on. I was _not_ that drunk," Iggy protests.

"Dude, you ran into the urinals, screaming 'where the fuck is Narnia?'" Ari says, pulling a face. Iggy blushes a deep red as laughs ripple through the room. I smile, but I think it come out as a grimace, due to my clenched teeth (at the noise).

"I distinctly remember him screaming for the White Witch to 'take' him," Angel pitches in, crinkling her nose delicately, in amusement and disgust at the memory.

"Masochism, eh Igs?" Fang asks, the corner of his lip twitching in amusement. We burst out laughing, and I ignore the agony for a few seconds to simply enjoy the moment.

"Oh come on, I'm not the _only_ one who got trashed. What about _Max_?" Iggy asks, a sly look creeping over his pale features.

"What? What did I do?" I ask, horrified.

"Fang has a cute ass," Gazzy declares from behind me. What?

"I looooove Fang soooooooo much," Iggy trills, delightesd. WTF‽

My blood runs cold as a thought strikes me.

"I-I didn't, _did_ I?" I ask, eyes wide. Nudge watches me sympathetically, as Fang smirks, Iggy shaking with barely supressed laughter.

"If you mean, did you check out Fangles' adorable ass, and declare your undying love for him, then yes, yes you did," Iggy says gleefully. Roars of laughter erupt behind me as I trudge to the bathroom.

I _hate_ hangovers.

_Beep beep beep_. The microwave beeps obnoxiously. I open the door to smell the buttery aroma of popcorn. _Give me popcorn, and a good movie, and there you have my retirement plan_. My migraine has gone, which I'm thankful for. I grab the bowl, before plopping down on the couch next to Fang.

"What movies?" I ask, taking a handful of popcorn.

"We have the Da Vinci Code, Twilight- that's probably Nudge's, some Harry Potter movies, uh….Omen, and…wait, what _is_ _this?_ Isn't this -? No. I don't want to know," Fang says, showing me the covers. We share a disgusted look at the last movie.

"Iggy's," we say in unison.

Nudge and Angel have managed to coax Iggy, Ari and Gazzy into going shopping, so Fang and I get to stay home. Right now, we're starting on a movie marathon.

"Hmm…let's start with the Deathly Hallows part 1. Then we'll go for the Da Vinci Code, god I love that movie. Then, we'll watch Omen, so we can scare the others shitless if they're back," I say. Fang nods, putting the movie in.

10 hours, 7 bowls of popcorn and 21 cans of Monster later, we're curled up on the cushions, eyes red, and senses hyperactive. The others come back, looking pretty much the same. The credits roll up, but sleep has already fallen upon us.

God should get a life. Maybe a vacation. Maybe a _girlfriend_. Does he get paid to irk me? Or did he just decide to send me to hell early? Because there's no way on _earth_ that after all that's happened, I get_Lissa Snyed_ as my Classics project partner. But apparently there is, because right now, sitting next to me is a red haired slut. Fantastic. It was the second time I've woken up on the couch, exhausted, this morning. Two times too many. Now, after suffering a hangover, a migraine, and a headache from a movie marathon, I have my anathema as my _partner._

Right now, we're arguing over who should do what for our project on the Greeks.

"I'll do art. You should do _war_, considering you're such an expert in _violence_," she sniffs, gingerly touching her nose. Come _on_. She's not even _trying _to insult me. Is that even _worth_ a reply?

"Yes, you _should_ do art. It mainly consisted of nude figures, so that should be _right_ up your alley," I say, voice saccharine. The room has gone silent, listening in hopefully for another Lissa-Max scene. It's not unlikely. She's in a few of my classes, and when we do talk, it's made up of insult after insult. Not even a whisper is heard, as Lissa huffs, pursing magenta lips.

"You're _jealous _dear. It's just because the only guy who'll even _touch_ you is your _dad.._. And, oh, wait, I forgot to include Mr _Milbern_," she says, smirking. Oh no she _didn't._

"Really, you shouldn't push me sweetheart. I noticed it at the beginning of the lesson, seeing as it's pretty obvious. I've tried keeping quiet, but, you _really should_ file a police complaint," I say, smirking inwardly.

"What? Why? What happened‽" Lissa asks, raising one thin eyebrow.

"I hate to break it to you Snyed, but I think your face got gangbanged by Crayola!" I say anxiously. There's a long pause, where Lissa gapes at me like a dying fish, before the room erupts into laughter.

"I _knew_ there was a reason I kept you around!" Ari roars, clapping me on the back. I turn, to see the corner of Fag's mouth quirk. I grin at him, and it turns into a full blown smile, and for a minute, my world stops turning.

I groan, turning over my maths worksheet to find _another_ side of questions staring back at me. I growl. This is just _unfair_. We've barely finished a half term, and I have all of _this_‽ Piles of homework look back at me. I'm not stupid, or slow, or naïve. I'm just _lazy_. And since when was _that_ a crime? I groan again, letting my head slip down from my propped up palm, down to the white desk. _Thump. Ow._ I lift my head back up, scowling, as I rub the angry red mark on my temple. Fang snickers from behind me.

"Shut it Walker," I growl. Fang just smirks, shaking his crossed feet. He's lying on his back along the couch in my room, arms folded behind his head, ankles crossed and shaking in time to the music from his earphones. Of course, _he's_ finished his homework.

"Nudge is going shopping _again_ in a few hours," he informs me.

"And this time, she's not going to let us ditch I'm guessing?" I mutter. Fang merely tilts his head, eyes closed.

Fang is probably my best guy friend. Nudge and Angel are great, but when the conversation turns to tutus and eyeliner, I'm out of there.

"Oh, and Max?" he says.

"Yeah?" I say wearily, rubbing my eyes.

"You only had to do question one," he says. I freeze, eyes wide. I turn back to my paper. Robotically, I turn the sheet over. There it is, a small pencil mark circling question one.

Well, damn.

"Nice shirt Max," Fang smirks, tapping my hip. I smile. It's one of my favourites. Dark blue, with white writing, saying one of my all time favourite quotes.

_'Sorry, I refuse to go into a battle of wits against an unarmed person'._

Classic.

"OMG! Monsoon, 75% off SALE!" Nudge squeals, dragging us along. I bite back a groan.

"I wonder why it's called Monsoon? I mean, it's not like it's in those places where the monsoon is…where _is_ that? Africa? India? I've always wanted to go to India, but the _weather_ will probably mess up my hair, and everyone will look at me weird, I mean, people _do_, but they'll look at me weir_der_, you know? You know what _is_ weird? The way you put the emphasis on the word 'weirder' on the 'der' and not just the 'er'. It should be the 'er'…isn't that a…a… a superman, a super later, a superlative! That's it! Damn, I had English last lesson again. It's such a shame you guys aren't in my class. I mean, sure, we're together in _some_ lessons, but _some_ classes just need a friend's presence to get you through it, you know? Like Math, and PE. I mean, Max has _Dylan_ in Maths 1. But has Fang in Maths 2. I mean, I feel sorry for her in maths 1. I mean, what's happening with that? Has he pulled a move on you yet Max? We can get Fang to beat him up if that happens! I don't know if he would try that though. It might just be that it was all a misunderstanding. But….oh look! Claire's is having a sale too! Come _on_!"

This girl needs _help_.

We're dragged into the store, and I'm immediately surrounded by porcelain mannequins. I glare up at their blank faces. _Oh how you mock me. _They just stand there on their pedestals, hands on their jutted hips.

"Fang! Over here!" I look over in time to see Nudge pushing a pink hairband onto Fang's head. I stifle a laugh. His face displays sheer disgust. Nudge swipes it off his head.

"Sorry Fang," she says, not sounding apologetic in the least.

"My cousin has the same hair cut as you. I needed to see if I should buy it for her," she says distractedly. Fang scowls at my laughter. Iggy and Gazzy play Angry Birds on Ari's phone. Fang walks over to me, letting Nudge and Angel hype over a lilac scarf.

"Fun." He says.

"Very."

"Ditch them to get McDonalds?"

"Definitely."

He smirks.

"SCORE!" Iggy screams as we run out the shop.

"Mmmmmm…." I mumble, taking a large bite of my burger. Fang's eyes are alight with amusement.

"You like it then," he says.

"Mmmmmm…." I mumble.

"Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Mmmmmm…."

"What class do you have first thing tomorrow?"

"Mmmmmm…."

"I never thought _I'd_ be in this situation," he says, shaking his head. I swallow my last mouthful, before taking a sip of coke.

"How long do you think it'll be till they realise we're gone?" I ask, slipping a fry into my mouth.

"Long enough," he says.

"I hope the underwear will be over by now," I mutter, dipping a fry into my ketchup vehemently. Fang snorts, sipping his coke. It's been a long time since I've been out like this, with friends. Yeah, sure, I got wasted at a dance club, but this is different. My homework is over, Dylan hasn't spoken to me in a while, and Iggy and Gazzy haven't blown up my underwear drawer. It's nice. Normal. But I should Skype mum. I haven't spoken to her for a few weeks, and needless to say, I'm worried. She's not exactly been _responsible_, since Dad left. She hasn't been getting drunk, and she's still clean, but sometimes the little things she does worry me. Like when she left the car at work, and walked home. Or when she lost the house keys at the mall, and forgot to get the spare. Or when she spent the night at someone's house, and didn't tell me. When she started staying overnight, I knew she needed space. So I left. I'm not bitter, I just understand.

But I need to talk to her, to make sure she's alright. I'm in this reverie for a while, before I realise two very important developments.

One, my fries have run out.

Two, there is a cute boy checking me out.

Well, the latter isn't _quite_ so important, but still, a development. He's seriously cute, with light brown hair, and green eyes. What _is_ important, is the fact that Fang is _frowning_ at the kid. Well, sure, he's not exactly _frowning_, but his eyebrows are closer together, and the corner of his lips are twisted down. You wouldn't be able to tell he was angry unless you looked closely. I'm certain he's angry, but for god's sake, _why_? I stand up and clear away our mess into the bin. Fang stands up, and slings an arm over my shoulders, as the boy walks up to us. I give Fang a weird look, but he ignores me. The boy walks up to us, flashing us a smile.

"Hi, I'm Kyle," he says to me.

"Max," I say, smiling.

"Fang," Fang says. I don't know whether there was some meaning in the way he said it, but the boy's eyes narrow infinitesimally. _Men._

"I'm here with my friends, and I saw you eating. I just wanted to know whether I could get your number?" he says easily, with a confidence in his voice, that I can't help but admire. I look over his shoulder to see a group of good looking blonde boys. _Well_, then.

"I'm here with my friends too. Fang? Do _you_ have a _pen_?" I ask, my voice thick with implications.

Yeah, sure, the guy's cute, but seriously, I'm _not_ looking for a boyfriend. I suppose Fang can tell, as he slides a black biro out of his pocket.

"Yeah, here man, let me write down her number," he says, scrawling some unfamiliar digits on the goy's forearm. Kyle seems surprised, but pleased.

"Uh, thanks. See you around Max," he says, walking off. I almost feel bad for a minute, letting Fang give him the wrong number. That's _before_ I see him high five his friend.

"Whose number did you give?" I whisper lowly, as we walk back to Nudge.

"Iggy's," he says.

"Kyle's about to have a little surprise,"

I fall back into my desk chair, pulling up my laptop. I smile slightly to see my mum on Skype, and I call her. I have to bite back a full blown smile as my mum's tanned, lined face pops up on the screen. The corners of her brown eyes crinkle as she smiles at me. I choke back a sob.

"Hey mom," I say, with a shaky smile.

"Hi Max. How are you doing baby? Are you ok out there? Is the weather good? How's school?" she asks, worry creasing her forehead. Her face is glowing. She's doing well, I think, heart swelling.

"I'm fine mom. The weather's great, and school's normal. How are you coping? What's going on there" I ask, trying not to show my worry.

"Nothing's happening Max. I'm fine, stop worrying," she says.

"I've even- No. Don't worry, it's nothing," she says. I raise an eyebrow at that.

"What? What happened mom?" I press, trying not to seem too intrusive. _To hell with that, she's my mother!_

"I…I've got a boyfriend," she stammers. She says it so quietly, I can't be sure that I heard it right.

"You- You _what_?" I ask. She looks up at me, reproachfully.

"I've got a boyfriend. His name's Gunther, and he's perfectly lovely. He's my co-worker at the vet, and I've got a deal. A promotion. I'm going to Germany with him on sabbatical," she blurts. I reel with sudden flow of information.

"Well. That's not _nothing_," I say accusingly. I'm still struggling to control my breathing.

"Yes, well, I wasn't sure whether to tell you or not," she says. I struggle with myself for a moment.

"Bye mom," I manage. I don't wait for a response. Instead, I slam closed the lid of my laptop, breathing heavily.

She's got a boyfriend. I don't blame her for getting one, I mean, she's an adult, and she can make her own decisions. Especially now that dad's left. But, I didn't expect to have to coax it out of her, like she has her own life now. One that I don't belong in. I'm being selfish, and spoilt, I know. But I can't _help_it. She's my _mother_. What hurts the most, is probably the way she considered whether to tell me about Germany or not. Why shouldn't she tell me? I can't help but feel she has another life now. I don't like it. Who's going to take care of the house? How long is she staying there for? When is she leaving? Can vets even _have_ sabbaticals? Questions swirl around in my mind. I lie back on my bed._She's an adult. She had a life before me, and she can damn well do as she wants_, I decide. I'm certain I've convinced myself, but then why does it still _hurt?_

**A/N: SOOOOO! What do you think? Boring? Too fast paced? Confusing? JUST HATE IT? SHOULD I CRAWL INTO A HOLE AND DIEEEE? Gah. Sorry guys. kinda high.**

**Sky: Yes, yes you are.**

**Summer: Don't forget about me!**

**Solstice: Oh yeah! Almost forgot! If you've read my profile, you'll know Summer, one of the people sharing the id with me. She's doing an M Rated Twilight Fanfic, so if you're interested, please look at it! It's called 'Innocent Sheets'... probably...I'll post about it if the name changes. just look out for another evvyxox fanfic. It's hers. It's M rated. It's TWILIGHT. What not to love?**

**C ya!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! A GIRL IS WEEPING FOR REVIEWS HERE!**


	7. Phone Calls, Flour Babies, and Cookies

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's so late, school just ended, and you know how the last week of school is...can't believe I'm going to be in Year 9 in September! Unreal...anyways, sorry to make you wait. I should update quicker now, I have a lot of time on my hands...I've decided to have one more chapter of happy funny drabble, but the next chapter will bring the plot back, so don't worry...I hope you like it, and seriously- you have no idea how hard the call scene was- i hope it doesn't disappoint!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, ok? Happy? Do you HAVE to rub it in?**

**(But I do own Brandon! Notice that the girls in the list in Home Ec are from Evvyxox, and the boys are our 'dream boys'...maybe i'll give descriptions of them...)**

Iggy POV

"Hey there sexy," I breathe into the phone. There's a pregnant pause, before I hear Kyle answer me. So this is the kid that hit on Max. I've got to say, I admire the kid for hitting on her. Can't be easy when you have Mr Emo glaring at you over her shoulder…

"Max?" I hear his voice ask.

"That's ma name honey. Why don't you introduce me to your little _friend_ down there?" I say.

"What?"

"You see, I don't think I know him, and it's _hard_ for me to make friends, and I _really_ want to get to know him," I croon. Kyle pauses again, obviously flustered.

"You want to get to know my….friend," he repeats, incredulously.

"Not just your friend darlin', I wanna get to know _all _of you,"

"Max?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Are you high?"

"High on your lovin'!" I say enthusiastically.

"Er….right," he says.

"Maybe I should call you back…" he starts.

"No! Baby, why would you leave‽ What did I do‽ I can CHANGE!" I scream hysterically.

"WHO ARE YOU‽‽‽"

"YOUR LOVER!"

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME‽‽‽"

"OH YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHING YET BABY! I've got _much_ more to show you," I drop my voice to a husky croon.

"Gherrofamnsickle," I hear Kyle choke through the phone line.

"Max I-"

"Shhhhhhh….save it for the dance,"

"What da-?"

"SHHHHHH!"

And so I hang up, leaving a very confused, mentally traumatised young man staring at his phone on the other end.

Kyle POV

What. The Fuck. Just. Happened?

Max POV

Iggy got the conversation recorded. Damn I love that kid.

Iggy POV

SCORE!

Max POV

I pick at the peeling wood on my desk, the teacher's words drifting past me. I'm not some loser. I don't just slack off in school. But _this_. _This_, is the wonders of home economics. Therefore, I shall sit here, picking at my desk, until the bell rings. I peer sideways at Fang. He's sitting at his desk, to my left, staring blankly at the teacher, as emotional as a brick wall. I squint, tilting my head. I wonder if he's sleeping with his eyes open…I'm just leaning forward to confirm my suspicion when I hear the teacher's voice snap me out of my reverie.

"And _so_… we will be commencing our first home ec project today!" The blonde haired young woman says enthusiastically. The class responds appropriately, with a chorus of groans. Hours of rolling lumpy dough and sewing dresses for imaginary children. Fun.

"That's it! Excitement!" she continues, stupidly oblivious.

"This is going to be a week long project, based on _families_," she says. I feel cold dread wash over me.

"We are going to be having….."

I cross my fingers on my desk. _Please God no, please no._

"Flour babies!" she exclaims, brandishing a basket of lumpy sacks. I feel my jaw drop in horror, and look to see a class of identical expressions. Flour babies. Little sack-fulls of horror, allowing you to practise for that _'special'_ day that your _own_ little one is born. How the hell is a bag of white powder used to make _cake _meant to be a _human_? And we're meant to practise this. When. We're. In. _School?_ It's like they're _asking _us to practise getting pregnant…oh. Wait. Not in in _that _sense, I meant as in _preparing _for it, not making it- forget it. The teacher brandishes a long slip of paper cheerfully, blind to our obvious loathing.

"And look! I even went through the trouble of pairing you up with your spouse!" she says. That woman must have a death wish. She clears her throat, rattling off a list of unfortunates. Glares and reluctant smiles are thrown across the room.

"_Solstice and Brandon, Sky and Will, Summer and Jace, Minni and Ninja, Max and Fang,_" Time seems to stop for me, as the names swirl around my head. I look down in horror as a bag of flour lands with a soft _thump _onto my desk, sending little puffs of flour into the air. I turn, robotically, to look at Fang. He looks at the thing on my desk as though he could burn holes through it. He meets my gaze and gives me a mortified look. I can't help it. A chuckle escapes me, and before I can stifle it, I'm crying with laughter. Flour. Cakes. Cooking. _Fang_. _Fang._ In an _apron_. I squirm in my seat, laughing my head off as my classmates give me bewildered looks. I catch a glimpse of my…_spouse's_ face. Oh, I am _so_ in for it.

"So guys! How was your day?" Gazzy asks happily. I take a large bite out of my bacon sandwich. Mmmmmm….bacon. I moan with pleasure. Nudge glares at me, as Angel wrinkles her nose. I swallow my sandwich, cringing as it gets stuck somewhere in my chest. I croak, hitting my chest. I have a little fit, before I feel the food go down. I sigh in content. I pull myself upright to see Gazzy watching me, wide eyed.

"Geez Max, I only asked you how your day was," he says. I take a large gulp of chocolate milkshake.

"It was good,"

I slurp my shake.

"I got pregnant with Fang's kid in class," I say, just as everyone resumes eating. Iggy does an _epic_ spit take. That _never_ gets old. Nudge, Gazzy and Angel watch me, wide eyed, slack jawed. Fang looks mildly amused.

"Good for you Fang, good man," Ari claps him on the back good naturedly. I pity his future children. God, please help the little Batchelder kids from their irresponsible father.

"Wanna see the baby?" I offer. I pull out my 'baby', setting it on the table with a thump. Four pairs of eyes look down at it.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

"Max...?"

"Yes Iggy?"

"…How did you have sex with flour?"

"Iggy?"

"Yes Max?"

"You are an imbecile,"

"…"

Iggy pokes my baby suspiciously, as Nudge, Gazzy and Angel come slowly out of the 'shock phase'. Just then, a thought suddenly occurs to me.

"What are we going to call him?" I ask Fang. He chews his forkful of pasta, and raises an eyebrow at me.

"Who said it's a boy?"

"I did,"

"No. It's a girl,"

"No, it's a boy,"

"Girl,"

"Boy,"

"Girl,"

"BOY,"

"WHY CAN'T IT BE AN IGGY‽‽‽‽‽‽" Iggy screams. We turn to look at him.

"Honestly? I'd rather it be a girl," I say blankly. Iggy pouts, and I roll my eyes.

"Seriously though, we need a name, fast," I say.

"Wheat," Fang says emotionlessly. I blink at him, thoroughly confused.

"What?"

"Wheat. We're calling it Wheat," he says. I blink, slightly horrified, as Ari roars with laughter.

"Wheat. We are calling my baby _Wheat_," I state, incredulous, now slightly possessive of the limp sack of flour.

"…"

I shake my head, incredulous.

"And is _Wheat_ a girl or a boy?" I ask, pursing my lips.

"I think Wheat should be a boy. I mean, if Wheat was a _girl_, he would have a _hole_, but if he _did_ have a hole, then all his flour would pour out and-" Iggy says.

"WHOA! TMI IGGY! TMI! I did NOT need to hear that! WHOA! I think my brain's still in overload from your load of perverted-ness! Wait, is that even a word? Oh well. I wonder if your brain _can_ overload. I mean, I've heard people say 'brain freeze' before, but your brain doesn't really freeze, does it? I mean, if you're brain froze, then technically you would die, because you would have a solid block of ice in your head. But, technically, it wouldn't be solid, because it would be hollow, but inside it would have your brain, which would fill it up and make it solid, because otherwise there would just be a cube of ice and a brain and the brain wouldn't be _in_ the ice because there wasn't a hole or space for it to go into, so a hollow cube is needed for the brain to go into, like one of those really nice chocolates with the nut inside. I love them! I wonder how they do it…I mean, I wonder if they have, like, a special machine that injects a needle into a block of chocolate, and sucks out the middle, and then inserts a nut in instead. That's so cool! I LOVE CHOCOLATE! It makes me little hyper though, but I'm normally hyper anyway, so it doesn't matter…or does it? I would be hyper when I'm already hyper so I would be even more hyper…like HYPER SQUARED! Or-or-or-hyper to the power of hyper! Isn't there that weird button on the calculator that says 'hyp' like 'hyper'‽‽‽ I tried pressing it in Math Class, and it came up with a load of weird things, like my calculator was hyper! Damn! I'm talking about Maths! You shouldn't have Maths before having a conversation, but I suppose that's kinda hard because, DAMN! This is like that time I spoke about conversations after English! I was mentioning that ambigy- ambigui- ambiguous thing! I actually fixed that though, and my teacher says I'm loads better at English now. It feels so good to hear that, doncha think Ma-?"

Brain. Fried. Need. Medical. Help.

I frown, and prod my baby. It quivers, and settles back down on my desk with a floury wheeze. I prod it again.

"This thing gives me the heebie jeebies,"

Fang rolls his eyes turning in my swivel chair, as I remain kneeling in front of Wheat. We're in my room, spending 'quality time' with our baby.

"Max, only _you_ can get creeped out, by a sack of _flour_," he says. I tut.

"Don't get all condescending on me mister!" I say with sass. Fang rolls his eyes again, raising his head to the heavens in a plea for help. Probably for my mental health. In my defence, however, it _is_ slightly creepy. Iggy and Nudge somehow managed to get hold of him. Now, it basically looks like a slightly deflated looking sack of flour, with a pair of _huge_ eyes, a toothy, strangely paedophilic grin, and an abundance of pink ribbons and frill- Nudge's attempt at Flour Couture, despite my protests that Wheat is _male_. And _straight_. Which is more than I can say for Iggy.

"What are we actually supposed to _do_ with him?" I ask, mystified. Fang shrugs.

"Take a couple of pictures with it, keep it whole…the basics," he says casually.

"Right. Well, we need to do an activity with it, right? How about we go out with it?" I say. Fang looks at me, thinking.

"Sure. On one condition- I get to pick what we're doing," he says.

"Deal,"

"No deal,"

"But Maa-aax! Come _on_!"

"I said _no_!" I say, as Nudge tries to force me into a bikini. Of all the things to do, Fang decided to go to the _beach_. Who takes a sack of flour to the _beach_?

"Please Max?" Angel gives me The Eyes. I sigh. Damn those eyes. Guess what _I'm_ wearing to the beach?

Ari wolf whistles **(A/N: LOL!...what an epic fail of a pun...)** and I smack his shoulder, scowling. Fang chuckles, closing the door behind us. I'm wearing a black, halter bikini, and black and silver oversized shades, with my hair loose. On top of my bikini, I'm wearing an off the shoulder, sheer silver top that hangs loose, covering most of my short white shorts. I'm wearing knee high black boots. Yep, to the beach. Sue me.

Nudge seems to have gone for the real 'summer' look, with a bright orange and yellow flowery swimsuit, and a lemon yellow sarong over the top. A huge straw hat sits atop her mad hair, as she jiggles excitedly in orange flip flops. Overall, she looks like a mad daffodil. Angel is wearing a light pink string bikini, and a white skirt over the top. Iggy is clothed in a fascinatingly horrible shirt, of bright blue, dolphins, coconuts, and ugly parrots, and a pair of blue board shorts. Ari is topless, and wearing brown shorts, whilst Gazzy is wearing a white shirt and light blue trunks. Fang is wearing an open black shirt and black shorts.

Together, we look like a circus act.

Fang drives us to the beach in his black Aston Martin Vanquish. It's mad inside, with Nudge talking her way to glory, Iggy singing 'Hey Soul Sister' so badly, it sounds like Bullet for my Valentine

**(A/N: Sorry if you like the band!) ** and Gazzy- well, let me put it this way, Gazzy made it necessary to open the window for the entirety of the journey. When we finally stumble out, into the blinding sunlight, I'm disgruntled, and less than happy to be clutching Wheat. I stalk off, holding my anathema to my chest, and settling into the nearest deckchair available. I strip off my top. The beach is big, and beautiful, covered with boys playing beach Volleyball, and girls sunbathing. The sea is filled with little squealing children, playing with their parents.

I smile sadly. I had been to the beach once, when I was 5. Mom was having a meeting, and I-being off school that day- had to sit with Jeb in a café and wait for her. It was a hot day, and I was bored, and so Jeb hauled me off to the beach. Hours later, we burst into Mom's board meeting, both soaking wet, sand encrusted and grinning from ear to ear. It was probably the most exciting day of those poor vets' lives, bless them. I smile every time I remember that day. It's hard not to, remembering their expressions, and…and considering it was one of the last memories I have of us as a family. After that, everything seemed to fall apart, staring with Jeb losing his job as a scientist. He stopped coming home, we stopped going on vacations, they stopped talking, they started drifting…apart...

A shadow falls over my chair, and I turn to the left to see Fang sitting in the chair beside me, after having propped a brightly coloured parasol behind us. I sigh, setting Wheat on my flat stomach.

"Ok, Max?" Fang asks casually. I can tell that he's worried though, he knows me too well.

"Fine," I say, tiredly. He looks at me, and I can tell that he knows that I'm not. I'm anything but. His eyes soften, and he gives me a smile, a heart stopping smile, and brushes his lips over my cheekbone, lips as soft as a butterfly's wings. I feel my heartbeat race, and my eyelids fall. The heat, his smile, the memories…they get to be too much for me- and so I opt for the easy way out, the escape that every human resorts to when it's too much…

I sleep.

I open my eyes lazily, to see the sun still hovering in the sky. It's still early in the day. I shift in the chair, suddenly uncomfortable, and look around. Fang is sitting in the chair beside me, watching me. I nod to him, not bothered to start up a conversation. I can see Ari sitting by the ice cream stall, chatting up some beach bunnies. Gazzy, Nudge, Angel and Iggy are playing volleyball by the shore line. I hoist myself out of my chair, stretching tall on the golden sand. I sigh, content. Boys are eyeing me up, and I roll my eyes. Have to love a girl in a bikini, don't ya? I turn to see Fang being eyed up by his own collection of FANGirls **(A/N: LOL!)** and laugh at his disgusted expression. I wave cheerfully to him, before running off to the Volleyball game, Wheat in my hands. (Well, to say that I'm holding Wheat would be a lie. Fang and I decided to leave Wheat at home and take a fake Wheat instead, just to make sure he doesn't get damaged… or die.) Nudge and Angel are winning the game 17-13.

"Take THAT!" Nudge says, hi-fiving Angel as the ball hits the sand on Iggy and Gazzy's side. I laugh, cheering them on.

Just then, some retard bumps into my back, and Fake Wheat goes flying into the air. Everything seems to happen in slow motion then. Fake Wheat soars into the air gracefully, and lands in the middle of the volleyball game, which Iggy promptly smashes, thinking it's the ball. The now punctured bag of flour glides through the air to land in the sea. Fang jogs over to us to see a stricken Iggy standing in front of Fake Wheat. The poor, defenceless paper bag lies sodden, in the water, leaking white powder. I don't think I've ever seen anything more pitiable.

At home, things aren't great. My mind keeps drifting back to the Skype Call with mum, despite all my efforts to distract myself. I throw myself into my school work, handing in work on time, concentrating in class…etc. Fang has noticed something's up, but is considerate enough to give me my space, and not ask me about it. The whole Dylan incident has blown over, totally forgotten by everyone involved…except me. There's something about the scene that keeps replaying in my head, like there's something I'm not seeing. I haven't seen Ella since then either. The whole Fake Wheat ordeal just adds to my worries...maybe it's an omen...maybe my baby WILL DROWN...or get tossed into the middle of a Volleyball game by a blind retard, and then served all the way into the ocean where it will bleed flour...yep, probably the most reasonable thing to happen compared to the rest of my life at the moment... My life has taken a weird turn, like a typical soap. It's serious, and something strange and horrible and confusing seems to happen every now and then just to confuse me- to worry me, but in between, there are those funny moments that drown out the bad times.

I open my eyes from my seat on the couch. My homework lies, untouched, on my lap. Fang is, of course, zooming through his at an alien speed. I'm about to pull out my work on the French Revolution, when something much more important catches my senses. A smell. An _aroma_ in fact. The aroma, of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. No, not in the oven. Coming _out_ of the oven. I dump my work in an unceremonious heap on the floor and dash to the kitchen, to see Iggy placing a tray of steaming cookies on the counter. I squeal in delight, feeling a euphoria I haven't felt in days. I grab a blisteringly hot cookie, cramming a load of chocolatey goodness into my mouth. The others watch, amused as I proceed to cram cookie into my mouth, then drink water to stop the heat, again and again, in a stupid cycle.

"Here's an idea, Max, wait for them to _cool_," Fang says, smirking slightly as I gulp down water furiously.

"Can't…too….goood!" I say, in-between gulp and chews. I moan with happiness. I'm one happy cookie monster.

"Er…Iggy? Is this the flour you used?" Nudge says. I freeze, mid chew. She brandishes an empty white packet, covered in suspicious pink lace.

Oh.

We all look down at the cookies.

Wait till my teacher sees _this_.

**A/N: Soooo? What did you think? I had an egg baby in Year 7...It cracked, and I put a plaster on the crack, brought it in, and i got an A. Ah, the mysteries of a teacher's mind...**

**REVIEW! Please! It tells me what you like and what you don't! Does the story sound disjointed? Do you not like the way I've written a character? Tell me! It gives you better stuff to read!**

**P.S. Tell me if you have any ideas, or you want me to include anything...or any info about Evvyxox+the boys...maybe i'll put it on the profile...**


	8. Self Preservation, Secrets, and Sunlight

**A/N: Hey guys, I know a lot of you are going to hate me for this chapter, especially seeing as this is the Summer Holidays, and this is probably going to be a bit depressing, but I promised you a plot, and a plot is what you're getting. Maybe i should rate this an M, for adult themes, but there is no explicit gross-ness so rest assured. I almost cried writing this chapter. It's short, but a follow up chapter is hot on it's heels. **

**Summer and I turned 13 on July 13th, so I hope you guys review instead of presents! That would be nice. Incredibly amazing. **

**Right, well, 'enjoy' isn't the right word so...**

**Read on, guys. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, but sadly, I do own all the emotions in this chapter...**

I'm jogging. Again. Isn't it funny, how people are often strangely attracted to doing something, once they know not to? How once they've been warned against it, the first thing they think of doing, is exactly that? Mind twistingly infuriating psychology. But true. See, after almost being raped after going for a jog all alone in the early morning, one would think that you would never go jogging alone early in the morning ever again, or at least for a few years, if one had any sense of self preservation. That being said, I feel it necessary to input that I do not _have _that sense of self preservation, so jogging, alone, early in the morning, after almost being raped, sounds perfectly reasonable to me. What compelled me, to go on this undoubtedly foolish act, I don't know. What I very _much_ know, and am painfully aware of, however, is that I am doing it.

The sun is hiding away behind the misty clouds, barely visible behind the thin veil of white. Nevertheless, the heat is overwhelming, and my limbs are hot, and sweaty within minutes of being outside. My bare feet are sweaty and rubbing sorely against the unforgiving rough material of my trainers, leaving blisters around my ankle. I've always hated socks. No idea why, of course. I've just never seen any use for them. Now I try ignoring the pain, lacking even the welcome distraction of music, and focus on the pounding of my feet and my increasingly painful breaths. I feel a sense of déjà vu as I pass by the forest. I remember the screams, Ella's face, and Dylan. Dylan, Dylan and Dylan. His silky voice, with that bass undertone of threat. His blue green eyes, cold, calculating and deep, that make you feel like you're looking over the edge of an icy glacier, into the chilling, unforgiving sea below. His smile, that perfect, model-shining-white-teeth smile, that just looks a little too fake, the smile stretched a little too wide, always a little too much.

I may not have a sense of self preservation, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't absolutely terrified when I heard a shout from within the forest.

I skid to a halt, sending dust and gravel flying around my feet. I've never been religious. That's not to say that I don't believe in God- I just haven't thought about it. My mum always called me an agnotist. Now, all that is cast aside in the jumble of my mind, as I pray, desperately, that it was the wind. That I didn't hear the shout. That it's my subconscious playing tricks on me. My heart stops, as I hear it again.

What else would I do, but follow it?

I run into the forest. I hear the sound of voices, and I follow blindly, relying solely on my hearing. I hear the voices grow louder and I stop outside a little clearing. The familiar sight sends chills down my spine. I'm concealed by a large hawthorn bush. One of the pieces of dense vegetation surrounding the clearing. In the clearing, stand Brunette, Ella, and Dylan. Ella is standing in front of Dylan, who has his back to me. Brunette stands flanking Dylan's right and Ella's left- ready to stop her from running, positioned to show where his loyalties lie. Ella is face on to me, but she hasn't noticed me. Nor- I spot with much relief- have the others. Ella is staring Dylan down, trying desperately to look defiant. There is a miasma, above the scene, thick with secrets and unspoken threats, and curling through the whole thing- wisps of fear.

"No. I'm done with this. I'm through with you, and your threats, Dylan. I don't _care_. I'm tired, and my friends are starting to notice. You think they don't notice the bruises? You think they don't _ask_ where I go every morning? I'm falling behind in my studies too- I can't keep this up. This. Is. Over," Ella says, voice trembling only slightly.

"Stupid girl. You think I care about that? This isn't a _job_ sweetheart, you can't _quit_. This isn't a _game_. You and I know very well as to what the stakes are, and who holds the cards. I can lay them down for everyone to see if you like- but you _don't_ like, do you? Because you know what will happen if anyone was to find out. I couldn't care less about the bruises, and your absences- and even less about your education. Concealer. A tutor. Tell them you have a job. Lie. Whatever. Because this is more than just you failing Trig, this is about the whole campus seeing what a little lying slut you are. What a _whore_. You think your friends will like you then? You think they'll care about where you go? You think you'll get anywhere in life? Think again Martinez, think again. Because, wherever you go, your job interview, your first date, your wedding, your _funeral_, I'll be there, looking over your shoulder," Dylan says.

What. A. Creep.

He's _blackmailing _her? With what? What leverage does he have? What does he _get _from her?

Ella's eyes have filled with tears.

"Sam, strip her," Dylan orders. Ella just watches Dylan tearfully, as Same strips her naked. I'm rooted to my spot. Ella finally notices me, and makes eye contact. Her eyes are beseeching, but she shakes her head. I want to run in there. I want to hit them, and scream at them, and help her. But I can't. And she knows it. And I close my eyes, too much of a coward to even face her, as they strip their lower halves, and the screams start. And tears sting at my eyes, pouring down my face, as my throat closes up, and I choke on my tears. My sobbing is barely heard over the cacophony of moans and grunts and screams. And they rape her. And they leave. Leaving a broken, sobbing shell of a human behind.

They have what they wanted.

And now they've gone.

I leave, before Ella does, only to turn back around and make for the clearing. Ella is still lying there. Bruised, broken, and battered. I slowly clothe her, help her up, and she remains mute, as silent tears stream down her face.

"Ella," I say softly. She looks up at me, her face contorted in anguish. There's so much grief in her eyes, that she's blinded by it. She opens her arms, and I hug her, sobbing, and we collapse. This is wrong. Why am I crying? I am weak. The girl that holds me is younger than me, and she is being raped, and I watched her, I didn't _help _her, and I'm _crying_? She pats my hair like my mother once did, and I fall quiet, drained.

"Ella. They're blackmailing you," I say, lying on the grass, hair spread out around me like a halo. Ella lies beside me, dark hair surrounding her like a pool of black blood. Our tear stained faces are turned up to the still dark sky.

"I know," she whispers, clenching my hand.

"Ella, they're _raping_ you," I say, more desperately.

"I know," she murmurs, even quieter.

I feel like throttling her. I feel like shaking her till there's no life left in her, and what I'm saying actually sinks into her.

"Ella, that's not right,"

"I know,"

"What happened, Ella? What are they blackmailing you with?"

"I can't tell you,"

I close my eyes, pained.

"Is it worth it?" I ask lowly, eyes still closed.

"What?"

"Is it worth it? Is it worth getting raped, repeatedly, just to protect your secret? Is your secret worth the pain? Is it worth it?"

"Yes,"

"And even if it isn't, I can't get back out."

"And Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Hold me,"

And we lie, together on the grass, confused, and tired, and sad, as the sun rises, shedding light on us, but never quite reaching us.

**So? How was it? I hope you guys don't think it's too...soppy? Sentimental? Crappy?**

**Tell me, review me. For Ella.**

**I'll post again before the hols are over...**

**Review!**


	9. Fights, Lighters, and Kisses

**A/N: Hey there! Sorry it's been so long, and I know that I _did_ promise to post more, but everyone needs a break, so I went on holiday! I haven't been on a proper one ever, as far as I can remember. They all end with me giving foot massages to my sick grandma in India *shudders*.**

**So, here's a chapter. It's quite long, and has a weird explanation. You'll either love it or hate it, or think it's total shit. I like to think the humour carries the story along. Anyways, here's your chapter guys, and here's to the end of the holidays!**

**BEWARE OF FAILED DRAMA OVERLOAD!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, but seriously, James, you can't create HOT CHARACTERS like _Fang_ and then expect people to keep disclaiming them...it's _cruel_...**

I pick at my hash brown gloomily, staring down at it like I could burn a hole through it.  
"Hey, Max, you gonna eat that hash brown?" Ari asks. I slide it onto his plate without even looking up. I keep staring blankly at the now empty spot in front of me. I see Iggy's hand dart across my vision. I ignore it.

This morning felt like a dream- or more appropriately, a nightmare. Seeing that, changed everything. Before, it was all just a joke. It didn't feel _real_. It was just a creepy teenager trying to get laid. This is a whole new level. A girl, from our school, is getting raped, repeatedly. I think the severity has just struck home, and I'm afraid. No. I'm _petrified_.

"Hey, Max, you okay?" Iggy asks softly, pale eyes filled with concern. I swallow hard, tears threatening to spill. Iggy's eyes widen, and he takes me into his arms and hugs me. I want to cry. I want to sob, and scream, and pretend that it never happened. Pretend I'd never seen it. But I did. And I want to throw up.

I pull myself out of his arms and with a strangled sob, I hurtle out of the room, dashing past teachers and students up to my dorm room. I slam the door shut behind me, and dive under the blankets on the sofa. The door slams shut, and rattles on its hinges. _Good._ I think with vengeance. _Good. Break. Crack. __**Break.**_ I curl up tight into a ball, pulling my limbs in tighter, and tighter, like a singularity, trying to squeeze myself out of existence. My nails dig into my palm, drawing blood, teeth tearing the skin on my lip. I squeeze myself tighter and tighter. I hear the door close, and I feel soft, warm arms hold me gently, rocking me softly. I feel Iggy prise open my limbs gently. I open my eyes, eyes wide, terrified. Iggy's eyes soften, and he opens his arms to me. With a strangled cry, I hurl myself into his arms, and he holds me, and lets me cry, broken, dry sobs. After I've finished, he pulls away, so that he can look at my face. He pulls away the hair plastered to my face, and wipes away the tears.  
"What happened, Max?" Nudge whispers softly, eyes wide.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Angel asks, cradling my head.

I close my eyes, and swallow heavily.

"Dylan," I say, brokenly. Iggy and Fang stiffen, and I open my eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, accusing.

"You knew," I say, only further angered by their silence.

"You _knew_. You knew what was going on, what they _do_. You ignored it," I say, voice rising with each word. Fang looks at me, with eyes filled with anguish. The others leave, leaving me and Fang staring at each other, alone.

"Max," he says brokenly reaching out to touch my arm.

"No," I flinch away from his touch.

"No,"

"You _lied_ to me," I say.

"Max, you don't understand-"

"No, I understand _perfectly_ Walker. I understand _perfectly_. They're blackmailing school girls in return for _sex_. What don't I understand? Tell me." I say, voice steady and accusatory.

"This is none of your business Max! This is none of your _godamn business," _Fang snarls.

"I told you, you shouldn't have gotten involved. I _warned_ you. You were just too stupid to understand that-"

"Don't you _dare _call me stupid Nick Walker, don't you _dare _call me stupid," I say furiously.  
"Fine. But really, I didn't think you were that _low_ Ride,"

"What- what do you mean?" I ask quietly.

"I didn't think you were that low, that _desperate_ to get into Dylan's pants that you would go to such lengths to get _noticed _that you would-"

_Smack!_

"Shut up. Shut. UP." I say, voice trembling. Fang looks back at me, hand to his red cheek.

"How could you even _think _that?" I ask, outraged.

"How could you even _consider,_ for _one moment_, that that's the reason for all this?"

I turn from him stung.

"Max-"

"Go,"

"Max you-"

"Go _away_! Leave. Me. Alone," I say, sobbing slightly. He leaves, and I curl under the blankets, once again, and I fall asleep.

For the next few weeks, Fang ignores me. It's not like I expected him to come running into my arms (Not that I would expect him to _anyway_) but, this open hostility is unexpected. And unwelcome. Fang is my rock. My lighthouse. The one who _understands_. My best friend. It's like the moment when your umbilical cord is cut away from you. Your lifeline is gone. Just like that.

I don't even understand why we're fighting. I want to talk to him. I know he is mad at me, and I know it's because I'm prying. He knows that _I _know what Dylan does- and he knows that _I_ know that he's involved. I just want to clear it up- to understand. But he won't let me.

It's ridiculous, to the point of childishness. Nudge, Angel, Ari, Iggy and Gazzy know. Fang probably told them what I saw. They're sympathetic, and horrified. But Iggy knew too. He's involved, and I don't know how. And they neglected to tell me, even when I was first attacked. They didn't even tell me when I let Dylan into my dorm. I just want clear answers, but they both push me away, say that I shouldn't get involved, that I should get out before I'm in too deep. They tell me to forget. How can I forget? How can I forget the sounds? They haunt me, even in my sleep. I'm neck deep in shit, and the only way I can get back out, is to keep swimming, and see if I can get to the other side. I don't think you'd understand unless you _are_ neck deep.

Fang and Iggy ignore me in the corridors, sit alone at lunch, avoid my gaze. And every time I catch a glimpse of Dylan, I feel sick. He's noticed. He knows that I know. I can tell. He looks over me, his eyes raking over me in a way that makes me want to throw up. It's like my body is screaming to him that I know. I've seen the look he gives me- of curiosity, of suspicion. Like he's wondering whether I'm a threat.

I've become a recluse. I don't talk to the others. They don't talk to each other either. And the first time I see Fang in weeks, is in the Gym locker room. I was going to gym class, and right outside the men's locker rooms, I saw Fang, pushed against the wall by Dylan. He was staring him down, defiantly, and Dylan was cursing. Then they both spotted me, and they looked at me. Black, and sea green. They watched me, anticipating my next move. Fang's eyes yielded nothing. Dylan's yielded everything. He knew. And I ran out of there, pumping my legs faster and faster, till I left the whole ordeal behind.

I awake, to the smells of burning.

I'm instantly awake, eyes wide open. The room is hot and smoky, little flames racing up the curtains, fire roaring across the room, dividing it diagonally. _This place is burning __**down**_. I cover my mouth and nose with a nearby tissue, my black strappy top and black skinny jeans giving little in way of protection. The heat is suffocating, and my skin is already blistering from the heat. _What's going on? _I focus on not breathing too deeply, and finding a way out. My eyes water from heat and blinding light from the fire. The fire is already rushing to the other doors. The other doors. _Nudge. ANGEL. _

"NUDGE! ANGEL!" I scream, resisting the urge to dash over the flames, and pound on their doors, already being swallowed by flames.

"NU-"

I break off, coughing desperately. I feel light headed, as flames fall from the ceiling. I squat, in my corner, surrounded by the intensity of the heat. I can hear the sounds of thudding feet and panicked chatter outside the door. _Stop_, I want to scream. _Stop_.

_What can I __**do**_? The heat, the light, the sounds, they fill the small space. I can smell burning plastic, burning hair, burning flesh. Whose flesh? It could be mine. I would know, if my body wasn't already numb and burning from the heat, every pore screaming in protest, for relief from the blaze. I close my eyes. Maybe I should give up. Maybe it's for the best. I'm too tired. I'm too weary to try any more. Just before I close my eyes, I catch sight of a silhouette.

"Max,"

"Come on Max, you're going to be alright. Come on Max, look at me, _look at me_," I hear a voice pleading from somewhere through the haze. Where am I? I can't feel my body. There is only a black mist. I'm lost, somewhere in the darkness. Where is the voice? I want so desperately, to help him. He sounds so sad. Why is he sad? He shouldn't be sad. No, he shouldn't. I slowly regain feeling in my limbs, and I scream. My body feels like it's on fire, like every cell in my body has been infused with acid and it's burning me from the inside. I scream, and writhe in agony. My throat is hot and scratchy, mouth dry and sore. I wrench open my eyes as my body convulses. Fang is carrying me to an ambulance. Fang. He looks down at me, and sees that I'm awake. There's an emotion in his eyes that I can't quite place.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I say, each word like a white hot poker being rammed down my throat.

"I'm impressed with the amount of faith you have in me Ride," he says, smirking slightly.

"Yeah, well," I murmur, closing my eyes.

"Here, I'll take her son," I hear a third voice say. I'm gently transferred into someone else's arms, and I almost wince. I want Fang's warmth. Not this unknown man's heat.

I catch sight of a pair of white doors closing in on me, just as I'm devoured by darkness.

I open my eyes, to find myself in a familiar position. Flat on my back with a needle sticking out of my arm, surrounded by white, the strong smell of Dettol in the air. Hospitalized. I've barely blinked twice, before a young doctor rushes to my side.

"Miss Ride, how do you feel?" he asks. He's cute. Curly light blonde hair, light blue eyes, slightly overlapping front teeth.

"Like I'm in heaven," I croak.

"Miss Ride, you have several serious burns, a few minor ones, and an impressive bruise on your hip- but you'll be fine. What's the first thing you remember?" he says. I blink slowly.

"I have an impressive bruise on my hip,"

The doctor snorts. He smiles down at me, eyes twinkling.

"From _before _the fire," he says.

"I woke up to see my room on fire. I couldn't get out," I say robotically. The doctor nods, scanning his blue clipboard.

"Mmmm…" he says, eyes flickering up and down the page. Satisfied that he wasn't going to ask me anything else, I close my eyes.

I feel a slight prick in my forearm, right before I succumb to sleep.

"MAX!" Nudge jumps at me, knocking me to the floor of the hallway.

"Hey!" I laugh, as she looks up at me, grinning.

"You're finally out! God, it must have been _awful_ being in hospital again. Who knew school had this much _drama_? God! It's like one of those serials, where there's the evil blonde cheerleader, who in this case, is definitely Lissa- then again, she's not _blonde…_but Ashley is! And she's a total-"

I clamp my hand over her mouth before it can get worse. It's too early for this. It's _always_ too early for this.

I'm finally out of the ward. Alan-my doctor- wants me to come by next week for one final check-up, and then I should be fine. I have a scar down the left side of my ribs, but it's not that noticeable. My back, however, is a different story. It's covered in small slashes and cuts, from burns, and where I fell on to a broken table. It totally ripped my back to shreds, and I have half a million scars across my back to prove it. It's sore, but fine for now. They still don't know exactly who started the fire, or when it started, but a small, cheap green lighter- like those ones found in drugstores- was found by the curtains, presumably where someone set one of the draperies on fire and left. All they would have needed is an open window, and they could have lit them from outside the dorm room. Since the suspect list extends to pretty much the entire campus, the search has been called off, but apparently the teachers gave a talk on safety, and dangerous activity. I have my own suspicions, but I'm too scared to voice them.

Much to my irritation, Fang is still ignoring me. He saved me, we even _spoke_ and now he's giving me the cold shoulder? Unbelievable. Fine, I did yell at him. But he was out of line. He thought I was _sleeping_ with _Dylan_? _And_ he didn't tell me what Dylan does. He knew, and he didn't try to protect Ella. Or me.

After my History class, I catch him.

"Fang," I say, gripping his arm. He looks straight past me, before turning his head slightly to look at me. His expression is blank.

"Can't we-?" I start. He just looks away sharply. Wrenching his arm out of my grip, he strides off. I clench my nails into my palm sharply, wincing as I reopen old cuts. I sling my bag back over my shoulder. _Damn. I've forgotten my Classics book._ I run up to my dorm.

Thankfully, the fire stayed in our dorm room alone, and only in the common room. It didn't get to any of our bedrooms, so our stuff is all safe, but has been transferred to a new room a few doors along. The old room is being renovated, so that we can move back once the living room is….de-scorched. I get my keys out of my bag, look up, and only drop them in shock. Leaning against the doorframe, is none other than Dylan Michaels.

My mouth goes dry. He's noticed me, and is looking at me, looking decidedly amused. His gaze drops to his hands, and I see what he's been playing with.

A green lighter.

I have to resist the urge to run. He raped Ella. He set the dorm room on fire. I'm dealing with a _psycho_. And he's got it in for _me_. I swallow, and ignoring him, walk to the door. He's right beside me now, as I push the key into the keyhole. His cold hand slides over mine, and I freeze. Gently, he turns my wrist, and the door clicks open. He leans so close to me, that I can feel his breath, hot against the side of my neck. He smells strongly of peppermint, and some cologne, and I feel like I'm choking on it. Hurriedly I push past him, and into the room. I turn to close the door.

_Open._

_Close._

_Open._

_Close._

He plays with the lighter, flicking it open, and shut, again and again. I watch, hypnotized, before slamming the door shut, and leaning against it, as if that can stop him from coming in. I sink slowly to the floor, head in my hands, and sit for what seems like hours. Finally, I hear a knock at the door, and I jerk back from it in shock. Is it him? I crawl back from it, horrified, as the door crashes open. Fang bursts in, panting. He just ran down the door.

"Fang?" I whisper. He looks at me, and opens his mouth to say something, before he clamps it shut, looking away. I feel rage building inside me, and I stand up and shove Fang against the wall. He wasn't expecting it, and lets out a small 'oof'. I can't say I was _pinning_ him due to the fact that he's a good set of inches taller than me.

"What are you playing at? _Why _are you avoiding me?" I demand furiously, holding him against the wall. Fang turns to look at me with eyes dark and haunted. They harden quickly, and he flips us over, so that he's pinning me, arms around me like a steel cage.

"I'm. Not. Avoiding. You," he grinds out. I scoff.

"Yeah right. And anyway why would you _care_? It's not like you owe me an explanation or anything, oh _no_," I say, venomous sarcasm dripping from every word. Fang's eyes flash dangerously.

"And saving you from a fiery grave isn't enough," Fang asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"I know who set that," I say automatically, hoping to bribe him with information. Fang freezes for a second. I want to take the opportunity to shake him off, but I need him where he is.

"Who?" Fang asks, looking like he already regrets asking.

"Dylan," I say. Fang pauses, looking straight at me.

"How do you know?" he whispers leaning closer.

"Remember the green lighter from the crime scene?" Fang nods.

"Dylan was standing outside my door, playing with it. Right after History," I say. Fang's eyes widen infinitesimally, before narrowing, and growing cold and furious.

"Shit," he says, pushing off of me, raking a hand through his dark floppy hair.

"Why've you been avoiding me?" I ask. Fang looks back at me, with eyes full of regret.

"I thought it would help," he says. He interrupts me before I can open my mouth to protest.

"Dylan knows me. _Well_. He's here because he wants to taunt me. The fire? That's just another symbol," he says. Well _that_ clears things up.

"Oh stop it with your cryptic signals. I want _answers_," I say.

And to my surprise, Fang nods tiredly.

It's about time.

"Dylan's my step brother," Fang says. Well, what do you know? We're sitting cross legged on my bed, facing each other.

"Way to drop a bomb," I mutter. Fang rolls his eyes.

"My mum married Dylan's dad when I was 6. It was me, Dylan, Iggy and…my sister,"

"Your _sister_?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Well _this _is new.

"I had an older sister- Maya. Dylan seduced Maya. Videoed it. He blackmailed her with it, for sex. I didn't know. Iggy didn't know. If we'd known, we would've done something, but we just didn't realise," Fang says. W. O. W. He frowns at my bedcovers. Either he's constipated, my bed covers are _really _ugly (which they are not!) or this is actually painful for him. _Please be the third, dear god almighty!_

"That's _sick_," I gasp.

"And not in that way," I nod at Fang's incredulous expression.

"Maya committed suicide afterwards. It had been going on for a few years. Iggy figured out what had happened, when he found a box of tapes in Dylan's room. We confronted him, and…let's just say, that when we came home that night, the house was on fire," Fang says.

"Well fuck," I breathe, horrified.

"I left and came here as soon as I could. Boarding school was our escape. Now, the prat's gone and come here, and when you told us about Ella, it was all déjà vu. Iggy's certain that he's after you next, so he thinks that staying away from you will help. He thinks that Dylan's doing it to taunt us. If he thinks we aren't with you, then he might leave you alone,"

"That's bullshit,"

"I know,"

"Ugh. This is all so messed up," I say, flopping onto my back.

"Very," Fang agrees from beside my feet.

"How did you feel?" I ask softly. He knows what I mean. Fang's eyes grow cold. Hard.

"Angry. Like it was all my fault," he says. He looks at me, and he knows, without my saying anything, exactly what I think of that.

"That's even more messed up,"

"I know,"

"You know," Fang starts, frowning slightly.

"I just realised that everything is incredibly messed up right now. And that there was something I haven't done, just because it might complicate things," he says, staring at me hard.

"Then why not just do it? It's not like this mess can get any worse" I say, frowning. Fang smiles then, and I feel the sun shine a little brighter through my window.

"Exactly,"

"Wha-?"

I'm immediately shut up, as _Fang kisses me._ Fang is kissing me. Fang Walker is kissing me. Fang is kissing me. _Holy SHIT, Fang FREAKING Walker is KISSING ME_. His lips are soft, gentle and firm against mine. But it's not completely right yet. I tilt my head to the right, and press my lips against his, kissing softly. I feel myself melt, as our lips fit together again, perfect every time. He smiles against my mouth, and flicks his tongue along my lower lip, making me shudder. He does it again and again, until I part my lips, and let him flick around, on the inside of my lip, along my tongue. My hair stands on end as he presses one hand against the small of my back, making me arch my back against the bed. I entangle my fingers in his shaggy, dark hair, as we kiss ferociously. It's addictive, a mind blowing thrill. I can't get enough of him, can't feel enough of him under my fingers, can't kiss him hard enough, can't inhale his scent enough, can't ever get enough.

"Holy _crap_!" I hear Iggy gasp. I fall back to the bed with a thud. Iggy stands in the doorway to my bedroom, watching the picturesque little scene in front of him. I'm lying flat against the bed, fingers still entangled in Fang's hair. Fang is leaning over me, one hand propping him up over me, the other pushing the edge of my shirt up my ribs. His legs are on either side of mine. Our clothes are rumpled, and our lips, bruised. Worst of all, we're _panting._

Cringe.

"Wha-?"

"My EYES!" Nudge screams running back out immediately. Fang flips off me expertly. I roll out from under him. Onto the floor. _Slick Max, real slick._ I get up, only to see Fang grinning down at me. On second thoughts, maybe the floor _is_ better. Yep. Down where it's nice and dark and no one can see me blushing…

"AWWW! She's blushing!" Iggy squeals, much to my dismay. _Well __**thanks**__ IGGY._

"And I quote '_Holy Crap!'_" I say, making my voice break at the end, like Iggy's. Ari roars with laughter.

"You guys are all wieners," Iggy pouts.

"Yeah, to make up for your lack of," I grumble into the carpet.

"EWWWWW!" Angel squeals, as Ari and Fang laugh loudly.

I hear the bed shift slightly, before I'm hoisted into the air. I can feel leather under my skin, and that is most definitely a pair of black jeans. _Fang_.

"Hey Fang! Let me down!" I yelp, as Fang hoists me over his shoulder.

"What? I thought you _liked_ seeing my cute butt," he chuckles. I slap him.

"That was a spank!" Iggy declares pointing at Fang's rear.

"No! It was a slap!" I say defiantly, with as much pride as I can muster whilst being carried like a sack of potatoes.

"Most definitely a spank," Ari says, nodding sagely. I see Gazzy wrinkle his nose.

"You guys are _off_, man," he says.

"Yeah, we're _funky_!" Iggy says, cracking up. Dear god.

I live with a load of nutters.

**A/N: Too much drama? Failed plot? Sounds cheap? Hate it? Waste of time? I'm freaking out here guys! HELP ME! REVIEW!**

**Oh, and special shout out to MaximumAngel1 for being there for the story from Chapter 1, and being an awesome person...yeah.**

**REVIEW!**


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